


The Marriage Sentence

by sparksearcher



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Con Artists, Engagement, F/M, Fake Marriage, Humor, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-03-17 08:06:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3521765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparksearcher/pseuds/sparksearcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Con Artist AU.  Clara and the Doctor are best friends and roommates who have a habit of getting engaged in public for free meals.  When they take it too far, Clara's family finds out and instead of coming clean, they decide to pull off the ultimate con.  After all, how bad could it be to get married to your best friend, even if it means marrying into a crazy family?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

John “The Doctor” Smith was having trouble sitting still. He crossed, uncrossed, and recrossed his legs, accidentally kicking the table in the process. He shot his dinner companion a sheepish smile before reaching across the table for the condiment rack. The Doctor inspected the label of the hot sauce before opening the bottle and taking a whiff. Pulling a face, he set the bottle back down and grabbed for the salt shaker instead. His hands were trembling, and he knocked it over, spilling some out. He tossed the spilled salt over his shoulder for luck and lightly drummed on the tabletop until a pair of smaller hands gently covered his own.

“Are you OK?” Clara questioned softly. “You’ve been on edge since we got here.” She squeezed his hand, and he returned the gesture.

He nodded. “I’m fine.” The Doctor brought one of Clara’s hands up to his lips and kissed her knuckles, never breaking eye contact. “You look beautiful.”

Clara smiled at the kiss and the compliment. “You clean up pretty nicely yourself. I like when you trade in the holey jumper and stick insect look for a suit. Makes you look dashing.” She paused. “Why did you want us to dress up tonight anyway?”

The Doctor’s nervousness returned. He tried to pull his hands away, but Clara held on tightly. He nodded his head to the side. “Our server is coming with dessert.” He pulled again, and this time she let go. The Doctor wiped his palms on his trousers and waited.

“Here you folks go, a brownie sundae,” their server, Rory, said as he set the plate down. “Let me know if you need anything else.” He winked at Doctor before moving away.

Clara eyed the small velvet box on the edge of the dish. “John? What’s going on?”

The Doctor took a deep breath. “Clara, we’ve known each other for a long time, yeah?” At her confirming nod, he continued, “And we’ve been happy in that time together right?” Another nod. “Before I met you, I didn’t actually think I could feel this way about someone. Hell, you make me feel like so many impossible things are possible.” He ran a hand through his grey hair before reaching for the box. He stood up and came around to Clara’s side of the table, then dropped to one knee, aware that the entire restaurant was now watching him and hanging on his every word. “I love you, and what I’m trying to say is, Clara Oswald, will you marry me?” He opened the box with only a little fumbling and looked at her pleadingly. “Please, don’t even argue,” he whispered.

Clara blinked rapidly, trying to keep her tears from falling. “Yes!” She launched herself out of her chair and into his arms. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” She pulled him in for a kiss and laughed against his lips when she heard cheering from the other patrons.

The Doctor slipped the ring onto Clara’s left ring finger. “Perfect fit,” he said with a smile. He stood then and helped Clara up, before kissing her again. “What do you say we take dessert to go and celebrate at home?”

“Sounds perfect.” Clara wrapped her arms around the Doctor’s waist and smiled.

Rory appeared at their side with a takeout box. “Here’s a box, and don’t worry about the check. It’s on the house. Congratulations!”

“Thanks, Rory.” The Doctor left a tip on the table, then turned to his new fiancee. “Ready to go home?”

Clara smiled, then kissed his cheek. “I’m ready to start our life together.”

They left the restaurant hand in hand. When they reached the car, The Doctor opened Clara’s door for her and was careful not to catch any of her dress when he closed it. The Doctor sat in the driver’s seat, and he and Clara turned to each other before they both burst out laughing.

“I can’t believe it worked again!” the Doctor exclaimed.

“I think that was your most romantic proposal yet.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice. That was, what, the tenth or eleventh time we’ve done this?” He pulled out of the parking spot and into traffic.

“Twelfth,” Clara corrected, admiring the ring on her hand.

“Would you put your mother’s ring back on your right hand? Your father would have a fit if he saw it on your left.”

Clara sighed before changing the ring to her hand. “Not like I see him much anyway.”

“And did you have to use so much tongue when you kissed me back there?” he grumbled.

“You said you like when I do that!”

“I do, but when it’s just us. You know what that does to me.” They both glanced down at his lap.

Clara put her hand on the Doctor’s knee, and he swallowed roughly. “Maybe I just wanted to let you know you did great tonight.” She inched her hand up his thigh. “And maybe I wanted to give you a preview of what I have in store for you when we get home.” Her fingertips brushed lightly over the bulge in his trousers, and the Doctor moaned at the contact.

“They heard a car horn, and the Doctor quickly jerked the steering wheel to get back in his lane. “Clara, are you trying to kill us? Stop laughing, this is serious!”

Clara only laughed harder.

“Dammit we’re getting pulled over!”

That shut her up. “Shit!”

“Put your ring back on your left hand. I have an idea,” he hissed. He rolled down the window. “Evening, officer,” he greeted politely.

“License and registration.”

The Doctor handed over the requested items and watched as the officer returned to his squad car.

“What’s the plan?” Clara asked.

“I’m throwing you under the bus. Follow my lead.”

“That’s a terrible plan!” she whispered back angrily.

The Doctor took Clara’s hand and kissed her palm. “Trust me.”

“Always.”

The officer approached their car again. “Do you know why I pulled you over?”

The Doctor sighed. “I drifted out of my lane. I’m so sorry, sir. We were just having dinner, and I proposed to her. I’m so happy she said yes, and I guess I’m having a hard time keeping my eyes off her. It won’t happen again.”

The officer looked at them both for a moment. “Your driving record is clean, so I’m going to let you off with a warning. But if you think you can’t focus, maybe your fiancee should drive.”

“Thank you, officer!”

“Have a good night. And congratulations.”

“You were brilliant, Doctor!” Clara put her hand back on Doctor’s thigh.

“Clara, please,” he begged. “We’ll be home in five minutes. “You can wait until we’re inside, can’t you?”

“Fine,” Clara pouted and removed her hand. “But I’m tearing your clothes off when we get there.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

The Doctor made the final turn onto their street. “Home sweet home,” he said, pulling into the driveway. He quickly exited the car, crossed over to Clara’s side, and opened her door.

“How long do you plan to keep up the loving boyfriend-slash-fiance act?” she asked, smoothing her hands over his lapels.

“Clara, I’m not your boyfriend.” He scowled down at her.

“I know,” she said. “You’re my best friend-slash-partner in crime-slash-lover who had better make me scream tonight.” They stopped in front of the door, and Clara rose up on her toes to kiss him, threading her fingers into his hair.

The Doctor stopped scowling when Clara’s lips touched his. He turned to press her back against the door and tried to unlock it by touch alone. He growled when he missed the keyhole, and Clara giggled. The Doctor’s hips thrust against Clara’s effectively pinning her to the door, and he trailed kisses down her neck, his efforts to let them into the house forgotten.

“Slash-future husband,” Clara whispered. “Kidding!” she added when he stopped kissing and gave her a dark look. “It was a joke,” she insisted.

“I’m against jokes and banter,” he reminded her. The Doctor bit down on Clara’s shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark but light enough that her resulting gasp was one of arousal and not pain.

The door behind Clara opened suddenly, and the Doctor pulled her impossibly closer to keep her from falling backwards. “Please tell me you were not going to have sex against the front door.”

The Doctor rolled her eyes and released Clara. “No, Amelia. I was just having trouble unlocking the door.”

Amy looked unimpressed. “I imagine it would be hard to unlock the door when your keys are on the ground.” She pointed at the keyring next to the Doctor’s foot.

“I’ve got ‘em.” Clara bent down to pick them up. When she extended her hand out to the Doctor, Amy saw the ring still on her left hand.

“I see a congratulations are in order. Again.” She moved out of the doorway to let them in.

Clara pulled the takeout box out of her purse. “Here, you can have the dessert he used for his proposal.” She hung her coat up and then headed into the living room. “Hey, Rory.” She collapsed into an armchair.

Rory smiled as Amy joined him on the couch and the Doctor sat on the footstool next to Clara’s chair. “What took you guys so long? I got home ten minutes ago, and I left the restaurant after you.”

The Doctor motioned for Clara to put her legs in his lap, then carefully removed her shoes and rubbed the bottoms of her sore feet, much to Clara’s delight. “We got pulled over. Someone,” he jerked his head to indicate Clara, “almost made me crash the TARDIS.”

Amy and Rory looked to Clara for confirmation, who just shrugged nonchalantly. “It was not as bad as he’s making it sound. The car is fine, but we got pulled over. We got off with a warning- an engagement present.”

Rory shook his head, then addressed Amy. “You should have seen them tonight. They almost had me fooled into thinking it was a real proposal.”

Amy frowned. “One of these days you’re going to get engaged for real, and no one is going to believe you.”

The Doctor scoffed. “I don’t think I’m the marrying type.”

“And I’m definitely not ready to be married yet,” Clara added.

“Just be careful with how far you take this con,” Rory warned. “Clara, if word got back to your family-” 

“They’re not going to find out,” the Doctor cut him off sharply. “They didn’t find out the last eleven times; this time is no different.” He raised an eyebrow, daring them to challenge him.

“Look,” Amy began. “We’re not trying to lecture you. We just want you to be careful. You’re our friends, and we care about you. Even you, Doctor.” She smiled when he made a face.

“We appreciate it. Really,” Clara insisted. “I think we’ve intruded on your evening enough.” She stood up and tugged on the Doctor’s hand. “C’mon, I’ve got a promise to fulfill.”

The Doctor gave her a cheeky grin. “Last one upstairs has to be on the bottom.” He winked and ran ahead.

“No fair!” Clara raced after him.

Amy and Rory looked at each other, and Rory quickly increased the volume on the television.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex and more sex. No plot development until the last paragraph, if you want to skip right to that.

By the time Clara reached the top of the stairs, the Doctor was already sitting on the edge of their bed, working on getting his shoes off. “I win,” he said without looking up as Clara shut and latched the door behind her.

“Yeah, because you cheated. It’s not a fair race if you start before me.”

The Doctor snorted, lowered the lights, and made his way over to Clara. “I could have given you a headstart and still won.” He gently placed his hands on Clara’s hips. “Now, I seem to recall someone wanting to tear my clothes off.”

Clara giggled and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “I’m not going to rip your nice coat. You’ll just ask me to fix it when we’re done.” She pushed the jacket off his shoulders. The Doctor took his hands off Clara long enough to get his arms out of the sleeves and toss the jacket towards the desk in the corner, completely missing it and the desk chair. The red lining shone in the dim lighting. “God, that waistcoat looks sexy on you.” Clara’s fingers undid the buttons confidently, and the Doctor’s breathing hitched when she ran her hands over his chest. She kissed the Doctor roughly, smirking inwardly when he instantly opened his mouth and let her slide her tongue against his. The Doctor moaned and gripped her hips tighter, slowly grinding his against her. Clara trailed hot, wet kisses up his jawline to his ear. “Now I’m ready for some tearing.” She gripped the edges of his shirt and pulled, scattering buttons everywhere. Clara ran her hands over the thin layer of silver hair on his wiry chest, marvelling at just how quickly his heart was beating under her palm. She carefully licked and nipped her way down his torso. The Doctor groaned in frustration when she moved her hips away, but the noise was quickly replaced by a shuddering breath when Clara kneeled in front of him.

“Clara, my Clara.” He whispered her name breathlessly. His hips bucked involuntarily when she unfastened his belt and the button on his trousers. His erection brushed Clara’s cheek, and she pressed a kiss to the fabric before carefully pulling down the zipper. “Oh, Clara,” the Doctor sighed as Clara pushed his trousers down to his ankles. He kicked his trousers off and tossed his shirt and waistcoat away, not caring where any of it landed. The Doctor helped Clara to her feet and stood behind her. “My turn.”

He carefully pushed her chestnut hair over one shoulder then unzipped Clara’s dress. He slowly pushed the dress down her body, deliberately stroking her breasts until she moaned. The Doctor unhooked Clara’s lacy bra and flung it away before kissing his way down her body. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her matching panties and slid them down her legs. Straightening up, the Doctor pulled her close again, and they both gasped when her breasts touched his chest. He kissed her hungrily and guided her towards the bed.

Clara pushed the Doctor away from her and onto the bed. He lifted his hips up, and Clara slid his boxers off and threw them over her shoulder. The Doctor protested when she climbed over and settled on top, straddling his hips, but it quickly turned into a moan when Clara pressed her wet heat onto his erection. She rolled her hips, creating enough friction to give herself pleasure but frustrate the Doctor. His founds found her hips and tried to guide her into going faster, but Clara was having none of that. She slowed further and let out a low moan when the tip of his cock brushed her clit.

“Egomaniac… needy… game-player,” the Doctor panted, now clutching the sheets and closing his eyes.

“You’re going to have to do better than that, Doctor.” Clara slowed her movements again and leaned over him to take his hands, intertwining their fingers.

The Doctor bucked his hips and opened his eyes. Clara gasped softly when she saw just how wide his pupils were blown. “Clara.” He licked his lips. “Please, Clara, I need you,” he begged. “Please.”

“Yes.” Clara nodded, and the Doctor held her tightly in his arms. He rolled them to change positions, and Clara looked up at him with a smile. She arched up and cried out when the Doctor pushed into her.

“Are you OK?” He looked down at her with concern as he held still.

Clara nodded and gave him a swift kiss on the cheek. “That was a good noise. Trust me.” Clara moved her legs to wrap around him, digging her heels into his backside, before tilting her hips to encourage the Doctor to move.

He kissed her forehead before withdrawing and pushing forward again. The Doctor kept a slow, steady rhythm as his need grew. He adjusted his position, keeping most of his weight on his forearms. Clara raised her hips to meet his thrusts and sloppily kissed his neck.

“Clara.” His voice had a husky tone that made her toes curl. He hissed when he felt Clara’s nails scrape his back. “Oh god, Clara.”

She playfully nipped his earlobe. A particularly rough thrust made Clara cry out his name. “Do that again. But harder. And faster,” she urged, eyes closed in pleasure.

The Doctor shook his head. “I’m not going to last if I speed up.”

“Please. I’m close.” She rolled her hips for emphasis.

This time he nodded. The Doctor pressed his forehead to Clara’s and grasped her hands in his, pushing her hands against the mattress. His rhythm became more frenzied as he fucked her harder. “Look at me,” he growled. Clara’s eyes snapped open, and the Doctor thought he was going to come right then and there. He moved his left hand between them to rub her clit, and his right hand tightened against her left. Clara fisted her free hand into his hair and pulled the Doctor in for a bruising kiss, never once breaking eye contact.

Clara screamed for the Doctor when he brought her over the edge. Every muscle seemed to tighten around him. Her fingers gripped harder, and her legs squeezed his hips, but it was the pulsing of her inner walls that took him over. With a cry of “Clara!” the Doctor spilled inside her. Eyes closed and panting hard, the Doctor’s movements slowed, but he kept his cock buried inside her.

Clara was the first to find her voice. “Are you OK?” She pressed a kiss to his sweat-soaked temple.

The Doctor nodded slowly. “Yeah. Just, wow.” He kissed her deeply. “You’re amazing.” He withdrew from her and rolled onto his back.

“You’re pretty amazing yourself.” When her legs no longer felt like jelly, she nudged his shoulder. “C’mon, let’s have a shower.” Clara left the bed and crossed the room to the attached bathroom.

“I’ll meet you in there. I’m going to change the bedding first.” The Doctor waited until he heard the shower running to get up. He worked quickly to strip the bedding and put on clean sheets. He had just finished tossing their discarded clothes in the hamper (how had his boxers ended up on the ceiling fan anyway? He couldn’t recall Clara turning them into a slingshot) when he heard Clara calling him.

“Doctor? Did you forget about me?”

The Doctor smiled and entered the bathroom. “Never.” He pushed the shower curtain aside, and his cock twitched at the sight of Clara naked, wet, and starting to lather herself up.

Clara pressed the bath puff into his hands. “Now that you’re here, you can help. Back please.” She started to turn around, but the Doctor’s hand on her arm stopped her. He pulled her to his chest and kissed her neck sensually. “Round two?” Clara inquired when she felt him harden against her.

“Round two,” the Doctor confirmed. He used the bath puff to draw large circles on her back with one hand, the other busy playing with her nipples. He bent down to lick one nipple before taking it into his mouth, suckling gently.

Clara took advantage of the Doctor’s hair being within reach. She grabbed his shampoo from the caddy and squeezed a generous amount into her hand. She worked the shampoo into a lather between her palms, then started washing his hair. The Doctor moaned and flicked his tongue over her nipple as Clara massaged his scalp. Clara smirked at the noises the Doctor was making before releasing a moan of her own when he switched his attention to her other breast.

The Doctor dropped the bath puff on the tub floor, moving one hand to Clara’s hip, two fingers of the other quickly pushing into her. Clara paused in rinsing the Doctor’s hair, fisting it tightly in an attempt to keep her knees from giving out.

“Sorry,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“It’s OK.” He kept his movements gentle as Clara finished rinsing his hair. “Turned around,” he added as she moved away.

Clara faced the wall of the shower and leaned forward, bracing her hands on it. She spread her legs wider as the Doctor moved closer and placed his hands on her hips. In one swift motion he buried his cock deep within in, and they both moaned. The Doctor wrapped one hand around Clara’s waist, and the other worked a quick circular motion against her clit in time with his rough thrusts.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he panted against her ear.

She shook her head. “Fuck me harder,” she commanded.

The Doctor moved the hair plastered to Clara’s face and neck to one side and kissed her shoulder. He brought one of Clara’s hands to her clit to take the place of his own. With both hands firmly grasping her hips, the Doctor increased the speed of his thrusts, his movements sure and powerful. Clara became aware of the Doctor chanting her name, and within minutes she was crying out for him. Clara’s orgasm triggered the Doctor’s.

“I’m gonna need a break before we do that again,” the Doctor said, separating their bodies.

Clara nodded. “We’re gonna be sore tomorrow.”

They quickly washed and exited the shower. The Doctor pulled some fluffy towels out, and wrapped Clara in hers before drying himself. They brushed their teeth and combs through their hair before returning to the bedroom. Clara smiled at her favorite pajamas laid out on her side of the bed. They dressed in silence and climbed under the covers together. The Doctor held Clara close.

“Did you have a good time tonight?” he asked, just a hint of insecurity coloring his tone.

“I did. Dinner was great, and you were phenomenal.” She snuggled into his side. “Maybe tomorrow we could see a movie?”

The Doctor yawned. “Sure. You pick. But if Hugh Grant is in it, I will walk out of the theater and leave you there.”

 

“No Hugh Grant. Promise.”

He kissed Clara’s cheek. “Goodnight, my Clara.”

Clara gave him a quick peck on the lips. “Goodnight, my Doctor.”

They drifted off into peaceful dreams. Neither remembered that both their cell phones were turned to silent before dinner and that they never turned the ringers on again. Inside Clara’s purse, her phone was sending a lot of unanswered calls to her voicemail box.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara's family finds out about the engagement, and we see how Bonnie met Clyde... I mean how Clara met the Doctor.

The first thing the Doctor was aware of when he woke up was Clara's head on his chest and her hair tickling his nose.  The second thing he was aware of is how warm she feels against him and how good it feels.  The third thing he was aware of was frantic knocking on the bedroom door.  "Go away!" he called to whoever was on the other side.

 

"Doctor!"  Amy sounded panicked.  "Open this door right now!"

 

He groaned and reluctantly left Clara's side.  She made a noise of protest and reached an arm to the space he just vacated.  Spotting his robe on the chair, he pulled it on and headed for the door.  The Doctor smoothed a hand through his grey hair and then unlocked and opened the door.  "Amelia Pond, this had better be good."

 

Amy punched his arm, pushed past him, and went straight for Clara.  She gently shook the other young woman awake.

 

"What was that for?" the Doctor rubbed his sore arm.

 

Amy ignored him  "Clara, wake up."

 

Clara blinked and sat up quickly.  "What's wrong?"  She took in Amy's tense posture.  "Is it Rory?"

 

She shook her head.  "It's your dad."

 

Clara paled.  "What happened?"

 

He's downstairs.  He said you weren't answering your phone."

 

"My phone?"  Clara grabbed her purse from the nightstand.  "Oh my God, I Have 21 missed calls."

 

Amy turned to the Doctor.  "He knows you proposed last night.  He wants to see you both.  I knew this would happen!"

 

The Doctor swore under his breath.  He turned to Clara.  "How do you want to play this?"

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"Should we tell your dad why I proposed?"

 

Clara made a face.  "I think he'll be angry about the con.  But I guess we have no choice."

 

"Rory's keeping him entertained.  I’m going back down.  Hurry down."  Amy left them alone.

 

"Better get this over with," Clara sighed, pulling on her robe over her pajamas.

 

The Doctor squeezed her shoulder.  "It'll be OK.  Just throw me under the bus."

 

Clara kissed his cheek.  "Thanks."

 

They walked downstairs and into the living room where Rory was telling Dave and Linda Oswald a story about one of this shifts at the restaurant.

 

"You didn't say she was here too," Clara whispered accusingly to Amy.

 

"I knew you wouldn't come down," Amy hissed back.  She raised her voice.  "Rory?  Can you help me with something in the kitchen?"

 

Rory nodded and stood up.  "It was lovely talking to you."  He paused by Clara and the Doctor.  "Nice knowing you," he murmured.

 

The Doctor sat in the armchair, and Clara perched on the arm of the chair.  They smiled awkwardly at Clara's father and stepmother.  "Hi Dad, Linda," Clara greeted quietly.  "What's going on?"

 

Dave looked at his daughter incredulously.  "What's going on?  Clara, you accepted a proposal last night, and you didn't call to share the good news."

 

"We were going to come by and tell you today," Clara lied.  "Yesterday was just about us.  How did you find out anyway?"

 

"Linda's sister was at the restaurant.  She called us because she assumed the Doctor had asked for our blessing."

 

The Doctor snapped his fingers, and the attention in the room shifted to him.  "Remember last night when I felt like I was forgetting something?  That's what it was."  He shrugged.  "Whoops."

 

Linda snorted.  "More like you thought we'd say no."

 

That got Clara's back up.  "Why would you say no?" she asked defensively.

 

"Look at him.  He's older than your father, he dresses like a homeless person, and he doesn't have a steady job."

 

"And I love him!" she shot back at Linda.  "I don't care about any of that."  She held the Doctor's hand.  "None of that matters to me."

 

"It's wonderful that you love each other," Dave said gently.  "We're here to congratulate you, not judge you.  Now let's see the ring."

 

Clara gave the Doctor a panicked look.

 

"I think you left it upstairs.  You took it off when you showered last night."  The Doctor stood up.  "I'll get it."  He kissed her cheek, partially to reassure Clara and partially to ruffle Linda's feathers, and left.

 

"Hurry back," she said weakly.

 

The Doctor took the stairs two at a time and headed for their room.  He bypassed Clara's jewelry box and opened the top drawer in his dresser.  He felt around under his socks and boxers until his fingers brushed the cigar box he kept hidden there.  The Doctor ignored the photos and his watch and pulled out the small ring he knew he had.  He shoved the box back into the drawer and ran down the stairs.  "Here we go."  He slipped the ring onto Clara's finger and sat down again.

 

Clara crossed the room to sit next to her father and held out her hand.

 

"It's beautiful," Dave complimented.

 

"It was my mother's.  Her birthday was in November too, which is why there are the little citrine stones around the diamond.  She always hoped he's be around to see me give it to someone special, but it didn't work out that way."  He caught Clara's eye and mouthed 'later' at her questioning look.

 

"Have you thought about a date yet?"

 

"Not yet," Clara answered honestly.

 

"I've always liked the idea of a spring wedding," the Doctor supplied.

 

"It's September now, so next spring?  Maybe April or May?  That's doable." Dave said.

 

"If they're still together," Linda added, and everyone ignored her comment.

 

"Well," Dave started, rising from his chair.  "We just came to congratulate you."  He wrapped his arms around his daughter tightly.  "I'm so happy for you, and I love you."  He held out his hand to shake the Doctor's.  "Take care of my little girl."

 

"Dad!" Clara whined.

 

"I will," the Doctor promised.

 

Dave pulled him close and whispered, "If you hurt her, no one will ever find your body."

 

"I expect nothing less."

 

He clapped the Doctor on the shoulder.  "Good man.  Welcome to the family!"  He beckoned for Linda to follow, and they left.

 

"What the hell just happened?" Clara asked, turning to the Doctor. 

 

"I have no idea."  He looked just as confused, and they sat down on the couch together.

 

"I'll tell you what happened," Amy said, striding out of the kitchen with a tea tray in hand.

 

"It's not nice to eavesdrop," the Doctor admonished.

 

Amy continued, "You guys were going to come clean, but the Wicked Witch insulted you," she handed the Doctor a cup of tea with seven sugars.  "And you," she paused to hand Clara a cup with a more reasonable two sugars, "lost your temper and defended him to spite her.  So now they think you're actually going to get married."  Amy handed Rory a cup and then took her own.

 

"How are you planning on getting out of this one?" Rory asked.

 

"Maybe we don't," the Doctor said slowly.  "Maybe we actually go through with it."

 

Clara choked on her tea, and the Doctor thumped her hard on the back.  "Are you insane?!"

 

"Think about it.  The wedding industry is so ridiculously overpriced it's practically its own con.  You should go to a bridal expo, get a bunch of free and discounted stuff.  We can register for junk we're never going to use and sell it off.  This could be a seriously pay day for us."

 

"You can't actually be considering this," Amy said to a thoughtful Clara.

 

"I think you might be on to something," Clara said.  She turned to Amy.  "You can be my maid of honor.  I'll even let you pick your own dress."

 

"Can I throw you a bachelorette party?"

 

Clara shrugged.  "Sure, why not?"

 

"Deal."

 

"Do you actually think you guys can be married to each other?" Rory asked.

 

The Doctor had an air of nonchalance.  "How is marriage different from what we have?  We live together, we share everything, we hang out;"

 

"We sleep together," Clara supplied.

 

"The only change would be how to file our taxes.  And I lie on those anyway."

 

"And my last name.  Oh, or you could take my name!"

 

"You're not taking my name.  I don't hate the sound of Doctor Oswald;  I'll think about it."

 

"Why can't I have your name?"

 

"I'm sure you'll marry someone else after me.  You can have his name."

 

Clara rolled her eyes.  Is this going to be a thing?  Every time I want something you don't like, you're going to tell me I can have it for my second wedding?"

 

The Doctor nodded.  "Yes."

 

"They bicker like an old married couple," Amy said.  "I could see them making this work."

 

"There are other things to consider," Rory said, ever the practical one.  "You're going to be responsible for each other."

 

"We're already each other's in case of emergency contacts," Clara said.  "I have him listed as the first person to try, even before my dad and gran.  And I'm the only person he has on his list."

 

Rory tried again.  "Doctor, let's say Clara gets into an accident and is on life support.  What do you do?"

 

"Pull the plug and cash in on the life insurance policy I have on her," he snarked, rolling his eyes.

 

"Clara, what kind of funeral does the Doctor want?"

 

"Viking funeral on the water, complete with flaming arrows.  Why are these questions so morbid?"

 

Rory ignored her.  "Where will you live after the wedding?"

 

"Right here," they answered in unison.

 

"You're not going to trip us up," the Doctor taunted.

 

"Let's say your birth control fails, and Clara gets pregnant.  What happens then?"

 

The Doctor's demeanor shifted.  "I'm not answering any more of your questions," he said icily.  He quickly stood up and headed for the door.  He tossed his jacked on over his robe and stormed out of the house.

 

Amy and Rory looked to Clara for an explanation, but she was already on her feet and following him out the door ("You're both still in your pajamas!" Amy called, but neither turned back).  Clara briefly considered following him in the car, but quickly dismissed the idea.  She hustled down the street, her short legs having trouble keeping up with his brisk pace, but she eventually caught up to him.  Clara said nothing, just walked beside him, waiting for the Doctor to make the first move, and she was not disappointed.

 

"You didn't have to follow me," the Doctor said quietly.

 

"I know.  But I also know you're not OK>"  She held out her hand, and he took it, squeezing desperately.  "We have a lot of things we need to talk about anyway."

 

"Clara."  Something about the way he said her name made her stop walking and turn to him.  The wind picked up, blowing her hair and obscuring her vision of him.  The Doctor reached forward with his free hand and tucked her hair behind her ears.  "I know you want a family some day, but I can't give you that.  I would do almost anything for you, but you know why I can't do that."

 

Clara nodded.  "River."

 

"I’m sorry.  I lost so much when she and our baby died.  The only reason I moved on is because I met you.  I can't go through that again.  I refuse to risk you that way."  To the Doctor's embarrassment, his voice cracked, and he could feel his eyes stinging.

 

She pulled him in for a hug.  "I understand.  I know how hard it was when I lost my mum.  I can't even imagine losing you."   Clara rubbed his back soothingly, and he held her tighter.

 

"Are you sure this is what you want?  You didn't have to keep with the lie because of Linda."

 

"I'm sure.  I didn't tell her anything that wasn't true.  Besides, a lot of people would be lucky to marry their best friend.  What about you?  Are you sure this is what you want?"

 

The Doctor nodded.  "We're practically married anyway.  Might as well take advantage of the situation."  He pulled away from the hug and took her hand again as they started walking again, this time back to the house.

 

"I meant to ask before, is this really your mum's ring?"

 

He nodded again.  "She gave it to me not long before she died.  Told me to give it to someone special."  He smiled wryly.  "I actually met you the very next day.  How's that for serendipity?"

 

* * *

 

 

Clara smiled as she recalled their meeting.  It was near the end of her first year at university.  She was dreading having to move back home after being away for so long and was desperately looking to rent a room somewhere.  Nothing had panned out yet, and she was ready to substantially lower her standards when she saw his advertisement in the newspaper.

 

They agreed to meet at a bar to see if they hit it off.  The Doctor was older than she expected a man looking for a roommate to be, but she quickly decided he was less likely to just be looking for a way into her pants.  He was a writer, and while it was good work, it didn't always offer a steady paycheck, so he was looking for someone to share expenses, he had explained.  Between tutoring and babysitting, Clara was confident she could make up her half of the bills.  She would work as much as necessary if it meant not being under the same roof as Linda.

 

She had agreed to go home with him to see the house, since their personalities seemed to click.  It was larger than she had expected and within walking distance of the university, but the Doctor said when the weather was crappy he could give her a ride in the TARDIS.

 

"TARDIS?"  Clara asked in confusion.

 

The Doctor gestured at the blue car in the driveway.  Sure enough, the license plate read 'TARDIS'.  "I haven't worked out what it stands for yet," he explained and he opened the door and showed her inside.  "You would have your own bedroom upstairs.  "He motioned for her to follow him, and he opened the first door.  "It's a decent-sized space.  This door," he opened the one across the hall, "is your bathroom."  He pointed at the door further down.  "My room.  We share a wall, so keep the music to a reasonable volume, and I'll do the same."

 

Clara nodded and gestured to the final door in the hallway.  "What's that?"

 

"Attic.  Mostly storage, so feel free to put whatever you want up there."  He started down the stairs and bypassed the main floor to show her the basement.  "This is where I do my writing.  "It's pretty quiet, so you can use it for studying."  He pointed at a large table covered with books.  "I can clear that table off for you."  The Doctor led them back upstairs.  "Living room, dining room I don't use, kitchen.  The appliances are pretty new.  This door leads to the back yard.  I've got a garden you're more than welcome to."  He spun around to face Clara.  "I think that's everything.  Any questions?"

 

"How about pets?"

 

"I don't have any."

 

"I meant me."

 

"You mean like a fish or a turtle?"

 

"I have a cat.  An outdoor one."  She pulled up a picture on her phone to show him.

 

"As long as you take care of him, it's fine.  Now about the rent," the Doctor gave her an average of what her expenses would be, and her eyes widened.  "Why are you all eyes?  Get them under control.  Is it too much?  I know you're still in school.  We can negotiate ."

 

"No!" Clara said a little too loudly, and the Doctor quirked an eyebrow.  "No," she said again more softly.  "That's actually perfect.  When can I move it?"

 

The Doctor gave her a big smile.  "Seriously?"

 

"Seriously.  Look, I can't stand my stepmother to the point that I would live in a refrigerator box under a freeway to get away from her."

 

He laughed at that.  "You can start bringing things over whenever.  I'm sure you have finals soon, so it's fine if you need to spread it out over a few days.  I can help move things with the TARDIS.  It's surprisingly bigger on the inside."

 

Clara gave an undignified squeal and threw her arms around the Doctor.  "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"  When she realized he had tensed up and was not hugging her back, she let go.  "Sorry," she muttered, clearly embarrassed.

 

"It's OK, I'm just not really a hugging person."

 

"I'm not sure you get a vote in that."

 

"Whatever you say."

 

They settled into living together easily.  The Doctor almost killed himself and Clara's cat on her first full day in the house.  Mittens ("That's a dumb name for a cat."  "I was nine when I got him!"  "He prefers to be called Stormaggedon."  "What are you, the cat whisperer?") had decided to fall asleep at the top of the stairs, and the Doctor tripped over the black cat in the dark, his pre-coffee brain not remembering he no longer lived alone.  Mittens yowled, the Doctor yelled and slipped down a few stairs before catching himself on the railing, and Clara bolted out of bed at the commotion.  She scolded Mittens, who just ignored her and licked his paws, and helped the Doctor to his feet.

 

"Are you hurt?" she asked worriedly.

 

"I'm fine.  Go back to bed."  He cradled his wrist to his chest.

 

Clara ignored his words and followed him downstairs.  "Go sit down.  I'll make the coffee and breakfast.  Do as you're told," she added when he opened his mouth to argue.

 

The Doctor sighed and sat down on the couch.  While the coffee was brewing, Clara brought him an ice pack.  He muttered a thank you and held it to his wrist.

 

"Do you need to go to the emergency room?" she asked quietly.

 

The Doctor shook his head.  "It'll be fine."

 

"I'm sorry."

 

He looked at her in surprise.  "For what?  I tripped, you didn't push me."

 

"But you tripped over my cat and-"

 

"And it wouldn't have happened if I had turned on the light.  Now I know for tomorrow morning."  He squeezed her shoulder with his good hand.  "It's fine.  Really."

 

* * *

 

Clara glanced up at the Doctor and caught his wistful smile.  He was probably remembering when they first met each other too then.  She nudged her shoulder against his arm and grinned and he nudged her back.  "You're sure it's OK for me to wear this ring?"

 

"I'm sure.  I would have given it to you eventually anyway for your birthday or whatever.  I'll buy you your own band though.  The inscription on my mother's is nice, but my father picked it out for her.  You should have one picked out for you."

 

She carefully took the ring off and held it up to read the engraving.  "'In perpetuum et unum diem'.  Sounds pretty.  What does it mean?"  Clara slid the ring back on.

 

"It's Latin.  'Forever and a day'," he translated.

 

She smiled.  "I like that.  Can I pick what goes inside yours?"

 

"If you want to.  Let me guess: Put that ring back on right now," he laughed.  "We can figure that part of it out closer to the date."  He sighed as they reached their home.  "Hopefully the conversation inside doesn't pick up where it left off."  He steeled himself and opened the front door.

 

Rory was sitting on the bottom step waiting for them.  He stood up and waited for the Doctor to hang his coat up.  "I'm sorry about before," he apologized.

 

The Doctor blinked in surprise.  "Wait, what?"

 

"You and Clara are both adults.  And you're my friends.  I was trying to protect you guys from getting hurt, but the way I went about it was wrong, and it just hurt you both anyway.  So I'm sorry for that."

 

The Doctor nodded slowly.  "Apology accepted."

 

Clara and Amy were leaning against the doorframe.  "Are you guys going to hug it out?" Amy asked.

 

Rory grinned when the Doctor looked at her in horror.  He threw his arms around the Doctor's middle and squeezed him, not listening to the Doctor's cries of "Not the hugging!  Anything but the hugging!"

 

"I'll hug it out with you, Rory," Clara offered.  She held out her arms, and he released the Doctor to spin her around instead.  She winked at the Doctor over Rory's shoulder when she saw him pull a face.  "C'mon Doctor, time to go get dressed.  I want to visit Gran today."

 

"But it's such a long drive," he complained as they climbed the stairs.

 

"Don't care, we're going."

 

"Yes ma'am," he sighed.

 

"Cheer up, she likes you."

 

"Yeah, a little too much.  The last time you left us alone she asked if I wanted to play Twister and made a comment about my butt."

 

Clara laughed.  "I hope you told her no."

 

The Doctor shrugged.  "You came back before I could come up with a response.  Why do we have to go today?  Can't we spend today in bed?" he whined.

 

"We have to go today because I'd like at least one of my relatives to hear about this engagement from me instead of by word-of-mouth.  We can spend tomorrow in bed," she promised, leaning forward to kiss him.

 

The Doctor deepened the kiss and wrapped his arms around her.  "I don't think I can wait that long."  He presses against her hip to emphasize his point.

 

"Again?" she smiles at him and then glances at the clock.  "Oh, what the hell."  The words are barely out of Clara's mouth before they're kissing and crashing on top of the bed and struggling out of their clothes.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor reminisces on part of his first year knowing Clara as they make the journey to her Gran's.

"Tell me why we're making this drive again?" the Doctor complained, tugging at his collar.

 

"Because I want to see Gran, and you are committed to spending the rest of your life making me happy."

 

He rolled his eyes.  "The things I do for you."

 

Clara smirked at him.  "You know you love it."

 

"Yes, dear."  They ride in silence for a while, and the Doctor reflects on part of his first year having Clara in his house.

* * *

 

 

The first time they fight, it's over something completely stupid.  The Doctor can't even remember what they fought over anymore, but it was probably his fault.  They had been living together for about six weeks, and she had screamed and stormed off.  The Doctor sat on the couch brooding hours later and wondering if she was going to come back.  He had been sitting on the couch with his head in his hands when his phone rang.  A quick look at the screen told him it was Clara.

 

"Hi, I'm looking for the Doctor?"  The voice on the other line was uncertain and most definitely male.

 

"Who is this?" he asked coldly.  "Where's Clara?  I swear if you've hurt her-"

 

"She's fine!  Well, sort of fine."

 

"Get to the point.  Who are you, and where is she?"

 

"I'm Rory.  My girlfriend Amy and I are friends of Clara's.  She invited us out tonight, but she's had too much to drink.  We need help getting her home safely."

 

The Doctor pinched the bridge of his nose.  "Where are you?  I'll be right there."

 

Rory gave him directions, and the Doctor made his way to the bar.  He opened the door and scowled when he realized it was a karaoke bar.  He spotted Clara and her friends and made his way to them.  "Clara?"

 

She turned to him and almost fell off her chair.  "Doctor!" she yelled loudly.

 

He winced at her volume, but at least she didn't sound mad at him anymore.  Small blessing.  He tried to diagnose just how far gone she was.  Unsteady, slurred speech, flushed cheeks, unfocused eyes- yep, definitely drunk.  The Doctor sighed.  "Clara, how much have you had?"

 

"Umm…" Clara tried counting on her fingers.  "Six," she slurred, holding up eight fingers.  "I want another."

 

I think you've had enough.  Time to leave."

 

"No!  Stop trying to act like you're my dad."

 

"You're lucky I'm not your dad; you'd be grounded for a year."

 

"I don't think this is helping," Rory said.

 

The Doctor took a deep breath and tried to get his irritation under control.  Time to try a different tactic.  He held up his hands placatingly.  "OK, you can have another.  In fact, I'll even buy your next drink and drink with you.  But I drove, and I won't drink and drive, so we have to go home first.  Does that sound fair?"

 

Clara considered is offer before nodding.  "Deal."  She jumped down from the chair and stumbled.  The Doctor grabbed her shoulder to keep her from running into anything.  She handed the Doctor her purse, and he slung it onto his shoulder with a long-suffering sigh.  "Bye Amy!  Bye Rory!  Thanks for coming out tonight."

 

"Thanks for calling," the Doctor said.

 

"No problem.  We offered to call her dad, but she didn't want him.  She wanted you," Amy informed him.  "Her exact words were 'call my sexy stick-insect of a roommate,'" she added with a wicked grin.

 

"She probably meant it as a compliment," Rory supplied when the Doctor furrowed his eyebrows.

 

The Doctor sighed again and turned back to Clara, only to find she was no longer next to him.  "Where did she go?"

 

"Weeeeeell, you know you make me want to shout!"

 

"Oh no."  The Doctor was familiar with that singing voice.  He had heard Clara sing several times over the last few weeks.  Usually she wasn't half bad, but she usually wasn't half in the bag.  He watched in horror as she took the microphone off the stage and encouraged the other people to join in her song.  Most of them seemed about as far gone as she was and were happy to sing along.

 

"Don't encourage her," he snapped at Amy and Rory, who were clapping along.

 

Amy scoffed at him.  "We've got a plan.  Draw her over here, and then we can carry her out."

 

When there was about a minute left in the song, Clara finally staggered to their table.  Amy managed to pry the microphone away, and the Doctor and Rory easily lifted her.  Clara continued her song, even without the microphone and yelled, "Thank you London!  I'll be here all week!" as she was forcibly removed from the bar.

 

Rory and Amy supported Clara while the Doctor unlocked the car.  He gently eased her into the passenger seat and belted her in.  The Doctor waved goodbye (and Clara tried to hug them through the closed window) and left the bar.  He glanced over at Clara, taking in her closed eyes and the pained expression on her face.

 

"What's wrong?"

 

Clara groaned.  "Don't feel good."

 

The Doctor rolled down the windows, hoping fresh air would help.  "The TARDIS has two rules," he told her sharply.  "No getting sick and no hanky-panky."  Clara groaned again, and his expression softened.  "Do you want me to pull over?"

 

Clara started to shake her head, but she changed her mind halfway through and nodded quickly, already unbuckling her seat belt.  She opened the car door and was already on the sidewalk before the Doctor brought the TARDIS to a complete stop.  He watched Clara empty her stomach into the nearest trashcan and made a mental checklist of things to give her when they got home.

 

"Any better?" the Doctor asked when Clara got back in the car.

 

She made a noncommittal noise in response.  "Don't feel any worse."

 

When they arrived home the Doctor instructed Clara to sleep on the couch so he could monitor her for signs of alcohol poisoning.  He stood in front of her and made her drink two large glasses of water and made toast to sop up what remaining alcohol was in her stomach.  Clara settled onto the couch, and the Doctor draped a blanket over her before reclining in the armchair with a book.  He dozed fitfully, waking frequently to check on Clara, but she slept through the night.

 

The next morning Clara woke up with a throbbing headache.  She sat up, dislodging an unhappy Mittens from her legs.  She saw a glass of water and two tablets with a note from the Doctor on the coffee table.  She swallowed the water and tablets gratefully then slowly made her way to the kitchen, where she could hear the Doctor puttering around.

 

"Good morning!" the Doctor greeted, loudly and with a suspicious amount of enthusiasm when he spotted Clara.  She groaned and winced at his volume.  "Breakfast will be ready soon."

 

"Not so loud," Clara whined, laying her head on the table.

 

"What's the matter?  Hangover?"  He did not lower his voice, and he looked gleeful.

 

"You're punishing me for the karaoke, aren't you?"  It wasn't a question.  Clara was almost certain that's why he was doing this to her.

 

"Yes."  He set two plates of eggs, bacon, and toast on the table and sat next to her.  "But in all seriousness, I'm glad you told your friends to call me.  I would have worried if you didn't come home.  Never hesitate to call me.  I will always have your back."

 

Clara smiled.  "Thanks.  And I'm sorry about yesterday."

 

"You're forgiven.  And I'm sorry too."  He got up from the table and started pulling seemingly random items from the fridge.  The Doctor threw the items into the blender and pureed them.

 

Clara watched him curiously as he poured the concoction into a glass.  "What is that?"

 

"Hangover cure."  He set the glass down next to Clara.  "Drink up."

 

She eyed the green substance warily.  It was thick and smelled terrible.  "What's in it?"

 

The Doctor wagged a finger at her.  "Secret family recipe.  It'll make you feel better."  Clara started to raise the glass to her lips when he stopped her.  "Best to hold your nose and chug it fast.  You won't be happy if you drink it slowly."

 

Clara nodded, then clinked the glass against the Doctor's coffee mug.  "Cheers."

 

"Salud."

 

The Doctor hid a smile behind his mug as Clara drank it all and then coughed.

 

"That tasted vile," she sputtered.  "I am never drinking like that again!"

 

* * *

 

The first time they kiss, he instigates it.  It's a Saturday night, about halfway through Clara's school semester.  They're sitting on the couch together; he's helping her study for an exam she has next Wednesday.

 

"You got them all right.  You're ready for this test."  He set the cards down on the table.  "Why don't you go out?  It's a Saturday night.  You should be out with your friends."

 

Clara shook her head.  "I'd rather just stay in tonight."

 

"Fine, we'll do something fun together."  He goes into the kitchen and comes back with a bottle of tequila, lime wedges, salt, and two shot glasses.  "Drinking game?" he offered.

 

Clara grinned.  "Sure."  She pulled out her phone and looked up drinking games to choose from.

 

Their game quickly devolved into just doing tequila shots, but daring each other to do ridiculous things, like catch the lime from across the room.  The Doctor felt his physical boundaries melting away, and he slung an arm across her shoulders.  Her skin felt arm through his sleeve, and he noted for the thousandth time since she moved in just how pretty Clara was, especially when she laughed.

 

"OK, so you're going to lick the salt off me, then do the shot, then bite the lime."

 

Somewhere in the back of the Doctor's mind a warning went off, and he ignored it.  He moved Clara's hair back and salted the juncture of her neck and shoulder.  He leaned in close and licked the salt, but instead of moving back and taking his drink, he latched onto her neck and sucked gently.  It had been far too long since he'd been close to a woman like this; Clara's perfume was as intoxicating as the alcohol.  He breathed hotly against her, and she moaned, threading her fingers into his curls.  Clara gently pulled the Doctor off her neck and crashed her lips to his instead.  She pushed him backwards against the arm of the couch and climbed into his lap.  The Doctor licked her bottom lip, and she eagerly parted her lips for him, sliding her tongue against his.  He ran his hands down her sides and cupped her backside, fingers playing with the hem of her skirt.

 

Clara broke the kiss and unbuttoned the Doctor's shirt, exposing more skin.  She started a trail down his neck, nipping and sucking more enthusiastically than he had done to hers.  He was already achingly hard, and he bucked up when she licked his pulse point.  "Clara," he panted against her ear, guiding her center to grind against him.  She moaned and moved one of the Doctor's hands to her breasts, encouraging him to squeeze them.  His other hand was now under her skirt and sliding up her thigh, and Clara stripped off her shirt and tossed it across the room before gripping his shoulders and pressing against him.  His long fingers pushed aside her panties and found her folds already impossibly wet.  Clara leaned forward and captured the Doctor's lips in another kiss.  He stroked her, and Clara was moving her own hands down to undo his trousers.  She slipped her hand under  the waistband of his boxers and traced her fingers over his length, causing him to give a muffled shout against her mouth.

 

Mittens chose that exact moment to jump on Clara's bare leg, startling her.  She pulled back from the Doctor and shooed the cat away, and when she turned back, he was looking up at her with wide eyes.  It was a sobering moment, and the silence between them grew awkward.  Clara climbed off the Doctor and adjusted her skirt before crossing her arms over her chest.

 

"Sorry," the Doctor apologized, not able to meet her eyes.  "I got carried away."

 

"It's OK."  She smiled to try to dispel the tension.  "It was really good actually."

 

He quickly stood up and retrieved her shirt from the floor, tossing it back to her without looking.  He practically ran from the room to get upstairs.  Clara winced when the bedroom door slammed.  She sighed heavily, then smirked when the shower started running immediately after.  Maybe the Doctor wouldn't pretend he hadn't been affected after all.

 

* * *

 

The first time they sleep together, it's because Clara is grieving and he cannot deny her.

 

It was a few months after the kiss.  Clara is at the university, and her schedule is full of classes, tutoring, and a study group.  The Doctor has a surprisingly productive day and met his word count for the rest of the week, and it was only Tuesday. He left his office to make a snack and frowned when he realized Mittens wasn't underfoot.

 

"Mittens?" he called.  "I have turkey."  Nothing.  "Stormaggedon?" he tried instead.  Still nothing.  Scowling, the Doctor stomped into the living room and found Mittens slumped over on the rug.  "Oh no."  Cautiously he Doctor reached out and touched the cat.  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  "OK, I Have a few hours until I need to pick up Clara.  Plenty of time to figure out how to tell her."

 

The Doctor went into the backyard with a shovel.  The ground was frozen, so it took a lot of effort, but he managed to dig a hole near Mittens' favorite climbing tree.  He went back inside and grabbed an old basket from the attic.  Using Mittens' favorite blanket as a lining, he Doctor carefully wrapped the cat up and placed him in the basket and then closed the lid.  He gathered the cat toys from all the nooks and crannies and placed them near the basket.  The last thing the Doctor did before leaving was take a picture of Clara, Mittens, and the Doctor off the fridge an set it on the basket.  (Funny story, that picture.  The Doctor had been sitting in a chair reading, and Mittens was curled around his neck on the back of the chair.  Clara had seen them, set up the camera app on her phone,  then plopped herself into the Doctor's lap with a yell of "Selfie!"  He had blustered when she taped the picture to the fridge, but secretly he loved it.  One day when she wasn't home he made a copy of it, which he kept in a drawer in his bedroom.)  He grabbed his keys and rove to the local florist.  He explained to the florist that he was looking for sentiments of healing and consolation.  Walking out of the shop with a bouquet of peonies and poppies and a couple roses, he fired off a text to Clara that he was running a little late but would be at the university library soon.

 

Clara spotted the Doctor as he pulled up and ran to him as quickly as her rain boots allowed.  "Hey," she greeted as he started driving.  "Thanks for picking me up.  The buses are always packed when it rains."

 

The Doctor gave her a tight smile.  "You're welcome.  Listen, I need to tell you something, but it's not going to be easy."

 

"Do you have a date?"

 

"Huh?"

 

Clara nodded towards the backseat.  "I saw the flowers.  If you need me to make myself scarce, just say the word."

 

"That's not what the flowers are for."  The Doctor parked the car.  Clara reached for the door handle, but his hand on her shoulder made her pause.  "Clara, Mittens is gone," he said as gently as possible.

 

"Gone?  You mean like you can't find him?  In this rain I'm not surprised."

 

He shook his head.  "Not gone like missing.  Gone like," the Doctor faltered.  "Like dead."

 

"What?"

 

"I'm so sorry, Clara.  Mittens died while you were at school today."

 

Clara flung open the car door and ran to the house to see for herself.  By the time the Doctor caught up to her, she was on her knees crying.  The Doctor set the flowers down and pulled Clara into his arms.  He held her tightly and whispered comforting words as Clara's body wracked with sobs.  She clung to him as if he were the only thing that could keep her from drowning.  Her cries of anguish twisted his heart.

 

"I wasn't sure what you wanted to do with Mittens, but there's a place for him outside," he whispered as kindly as he could.

 

Clara nodded.  "Thank you."  She released him and gently laid all the cat toys and the picture into the basket before taking the hand the Doctor offered to haul her to her feet.

 

He handed her the roses and carried the basket himself.  He gently tugged Clara's hood to cover her head and led her back into the rain.  The Doctor carefully placed the basket in the hole and shoveled the displaced dirt back into place.  He held out his hand, and Clara placed a rose in it.  "Goodbye, Mittens.  It was fun having you in the house.  See you around."  The Doctor laid his rose on the grace and stepped back to give Clara a little privacy.

 

"Goodbye, Mittens," Clara whispered.  "Thanks for being my best friend.  I love you."  She placed her rose next to the first and then cried harder.

 

The Doctor held his arms open, and she ran to him.  "How about we go inside for tea?" he offered.  At Clara's nod, he clasped their hands together and led her back into the warmth and comfort the house offered.  He hung up their jackets in the hall and busied himself with the kettle while Clara settled onto her stool.

 

"I should call Gran and tell her what happened.  She was the one who gave me Mittens when I was little.  She's going to be really upset too."

 

"Why don't you wait until tomorrow?" he suggested gently.  "Deal with your own grief tonight.  I'll drive you out there to tell her in person."

 

"Tomorrow's Wednesday.  I have school, and you're supposed to work."

 

The Doctor poured their tea and added the milk and sugar before he responded.  "You're not going to be in any shape to go to school tomorrow.  You can stay here, or we can go somewhere else, but you're not going to school.  I'm ahead in what I'm working on, so I can take tomorrow off."  He handed her one of the cups of tea and then sat on the stool next to her.  He took a sip of his own and realized he got the mugs mixed up.  "This one is yours," he said swapping them before she could take a sip.  "Two sugars instead of seven."

 

Clara was silent except for the occasional sniffle as she drank her tea.  She drained her mug and then spoke.  "Thanks for everything you did today.  I really appreciate it."

 

He nodded and squeezed her hand.  "If there's anything else you want or need, just ask."

 

"Can you come upstairs with me please?  I'm not ready to be alone."  She sounded so lost, and his heart ached for her.

 

"Of course.  Get ready for bed, and I'll meet you up there."  He watched her shuffle out of the room before he turned to the sink and did the dishes.  He absently realized he hadn't eaten since breakfast, and hoped he'd remember to eat once Clara fell asleep.  The Doctor spied the poppies and peonies he had abandoned earlier and filled a vase with water for them.  He tucked the vase under his arm and grabbed a book from a shelf in the living room before climbing the stairs.  "Are you decent?" he called as he approached her door.

 

Clara opened the door and motioned for him to enter.  "Come on in."  She smoothed her white satin pajamas and sat on the edge of her bed.

 

The Doctor raised the vase before setting it on her vanity.  "These are for you."  He looked around her room feeling awkward.  "I don't think I've really been in here since you unpacked.  I like what you've done with it."  It was clean, with thick curtains over the windows.  The walls were a pale yellow, and she had strings of white lights lining the ceiling.  A large bookcase lined the wall near the closet, and her bed was pushed up against the opposite wall.  He caught sight of his reflections in her vanity.  "Why do you have three mirrors?  Why don't you just turn your head?"

 

Clara giggled and patted the bed next to her.  "You can sit.  I didn't invite you up to hover in the corner."

 

He nodded and took the empty space next to her.  He held up the book for her to see.  "I thought maybe I could read to you to help you relax."

 

Clara gave him a small smile.  "Is this one of your books?" At his nod, her smile grew, and she snuggled into his side.  "I'd like that a lot."

 

The Doctor tensed slightly before forcing himself to relax.  He opened the book and cleared his throat.  "Once upon a time…"

 

Clara rested her head against the Doctor's shoulder and tucked her hands around his arm.  His voice soothed, and the children's story calmed her troubled mind.  By the time the Doctor had finished the story, Clara was no longer crying.  He put the book down and cupped her face in his hands, thumbs wiping the tearstains away.  Clara gave a contented sigh and closed her eyes.

 

"Ready to settle in?" he asked softly.

 

Clara nodded slowly.  She reluctantly left his arms and climbed under the covers.  "Doctor?"

 

"Hmm?"

 

Clara bit her lip and wondered if she was really going to ask her next question.  "Could you hold me for a while?  If you want to, that is.  Or maybe stay?  You don't have to," she added quickly.  "You've already done a lot."

 

The Doctor raised an eyebrow.  "You want a pajama party?"

 

Clara's cheeks burned, but she nodded.

 

He nodded back carefully.  "OK then.  I'll be right back."  He left Clara's room to change into his comfy flannel pajamas.  The Doctor padded back into Clara's room and shut the door behind himself.  She had turned off the bright lights, and the white light strings now lit the space.  She was sitting up in the bed, and she offered him a watery smile.  He climbed onto the empty half of the bed, and Clara settled the blankets over him.  The Doctor stretched an arm out towards Clara, and she neatly fit her body against his.  He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tightly, secretly savoring the feel of the satin against his bare arms.

 

Clara sighed contentedly and curled her fingers into his T-shirt.  She buried her nose against his neck and inhaled deeply.  He smelled of paper, ink, and mint, and she dragged her lips against his skin.

 

"Clara," he breathed out a warning.

 

"Please."  He brown eyes seemed impossibly wider.

 

"You had a long and difficult day.  I don't want you to make a choice in your grief that you regret later."  He kissed the top of her head and squeezed her shoulder.

 

Clara silently processed his words and actions.  "So you're not saying no.  You're just saying not yet?" she asked slowly.

 

The Doctor's eyes widened, and he replayed his words in his mind.  Dammit, he should be refusing her outright, not giving her hope.  Should be stopping her from making mistakes, not encouraging her to make those mistakes at a later date.  He opened his mouth to tell her this, but their eyes met, and he felt his resolve crumble.  Instead the Doctor was only able to hoarsely say, "You need to be sure this is what you want."

 

She dragged her lips down his neck again, and his breath shuddered.  Clara pulled away enough to see his face.  Looking into his eyes, she confidently told him, "I'm sure that I want this."

 

The Doctor searched her eyes for doubt and found none.  "If you change your mind, tell me and we'll stop."  Clara nodded, and he leaned in to kiss her.

 

It was much sweeter than the last time he kissed her in October.  The Doctor was aware of how much Clara needed comfort and purposely kept his kisses light and tender.  His hands trailed down her back, caressing lightly, until he reached the hem of her top.  Clara gasped against his mouth when he slipped one hand underneath and traced the bare skin along her spine, and she threaded her fingers into his curls.  Her arousal was already making her pajama bottoms damp, and she pulled the Doctor on top of her, breaking the kiss to moan at his erection pressing against her hip.  She tugged his T-shirt off and splayed her hands on his back, loving that little bit of skin to skin contact.

 

The Doctor knew he wouldn't last once he was inside her, so he wanted to make everything leading up to that last.  He pressed tender kisses to her neck and slowly unbuttoned her pajama top.  His kisses trailed lower down to her breasts and he took one nipple in his mouth, slowly swirling his tongue along the peak before giving its twin the same treatment.  Clara moaned lowly and clamped her hands over his backside, encouraging him to rock against her.  He groaned against her and reluctantly moved his hips away, suddenly worried if this kept up that he wouldn't even last to be inside her.  "I've only got one go, and I don't think it'll last long," he apologized between kisses down her stomach.  His hands touched the waistband of her pants, and he looked to her for permission.

 

Clara panted and nodded for him to continue his descent.  He hooked his fingers into the waistband and pulled her soaked pants and panties down and off her body.  His own pajamas were tented uncomfortably, and his body urged to join with hers.  The Doctor ignored his own desires and settled himself between Clara's thighs.  He gave her folds a tentative lick and moaned when he tasted her.  He buried his face against her and eagerly licked and nipped everywhere he could reach, slow and gentle forgotten when her breathless pleas and whimpers reached his ears.  The Doctor plunged his tongue inside her, mimicking what he would soon do with his cock, and one of Clara's hands fisted in his hair.  He looked up at her while he circled her clit, expecting to see Clara's eyes closed.  She looked right back at him, pupils blown and gripped his hair and the sheet beneath them harder.  He added his clever fingers to the mix, curling them inside her while he continued to lick her clit, never breaking eye contact.  The sensations were too much, and Clara tipped right over the edge, with a call of "oh god, Doctor!"

 

She reached down and cupped her hands on his cheeks.  "Doctor, I need you.  Right now."

 

He crawled back up the bed, and they pushed his pants and boxers down together.  She took his length in hand gently and stroked him, the fingers of her other hand ghosting through his hair.  He kissed her neck, and Clara guided him to her entrance.  The Doctor pushed inside Clara smoothly and accidentally bit down on her neck harder than he intended when he felt how tight she was.  Clara moaned in pleasure, but he still whispered an apology and kissed the mark.

 

The Doctor may have been out of practice, but he was still more experienced than Clara.  Every thrust and roll of his hips was calculated to bring her back to the edge.  He gripped her thighs and encouraged her to wrap her legs around him, allowing him to push in even deeper.  The Doctor's movements grew more erratic as he approached his climax.  His thrusts were harder, wilder, and he briefly wondered about the structural integrity of Clara's bed as the frame creaked under them.  Beneath him, Clara was begging for harder, faster.

 

"Don't you dare stop," she warned as she raised her hips to meet his.

 

The Doctor nodded, no longer able to form coherent words.  His blue eyes met her brown, and he crashed his lips to hers in a rough kiss.

 

Clara finally cried out against his mouth again, and he felt her contracting against his length.  He thrust into her once, twice, three times more before reaching his own orgasm.  His arms gave out, and he collapsed heavily onto Clara's chest.  Her hands were instantly on his cheeks, turning his face to her.

 

"Are you OK?"  She was searching his eyes.

 

"Yeah.  A little out of breath, but fine.  Why?"

 

Clara bit her lip.  "When you collapsed like that at the end, I was afraid I killed you."

 

The Doctor bristled.  "I'm older than you but not so old to die from sex.  Although I can think of a hundred worse ways to die than in bed with a beautiful woman."  He moved off of Clara and immediately pulled her back into his arms.  "Are you OK?"

 

She nodded and snuggled against his chest.  I am.  Thank you again for everything."  Her expression was solemn when he kissed his cheek, but it quickly brightened.  "I didn't know sex could be that good."

 

The Doctor snorted.  "I don't think it's supposed to be that good."  He stifled a yarn.  "Let's sleep now and worry about everything else in the morning."  He gave her a slow, deep kiss.  "Goodnight, Clara."

 

"Goodnight, Doctor."  She turned off the lights, and they fell asleep.

 

The next morning the Doctor woke up in Clara's bed with no Clara.  He hopped out of her bed and started berating himself as he gathered his pajamas.  "Idiot, idiot, idiot."  He tossed his clothes on the bed and ran a hand down his face.  "She obviously regrets last night.  I knew this was a bad idea.  She'll probably want to move out now.  I am Doctor Idiot!"

 

Clara chose that exact moment to open the bedroom door, balancing a tray of breakfast foods.  She blinked at the site in front of her.  The Doctor was standing in the middle of her bedroom, stark-naked, and tugging a hand through his hair.  "Um…good morning?  I brought breakfast."

 

The Doctor blushed and quickly pulled his clothes on.  Clara didn't bother averting her eyes and smirked as she settled in bed with the tray.  "How are you feeling?" he asked.

 

A sad smiled crossed her face.  "About as well as can be expected, I guess.  Gran's going to meet me for lunch," she added, taking a bite of bacon.

 

He nodded and helped himself to the tray.  "Listen about last night-"

 

Clara's cell phone rang, interrupting the Doctor.  "It'd Dad.  I should take this.  Hello?  Hey, Dad… Gran told you then?  I'm alright, I guess."  She gave a shrug her father could not see.  "The Doctor took care of me last night… I call him that because that's his name."  She looked at the Doctor before rolling her eyes.  "Yes, I know the story behind it… No, I'm not telling you; just ask him yourself.  Look, I gotta go; we're having breakfast… Love you too.  Bye."  Clara hung up and offered the Doctor a smile.  "Sorry about that.  What were you going to say?"

 

The Doctor shook his head.  "Nothing important.  But you might want to put some cover-up on your neck before you meet your grandmother."  He carefully traced a finger over the bite mark on her neck, but Clara did not flinch.  He climbed off the bed and kissed the top of her head.  "Thanks for breakfast.  I'll do the dishes."  He picked up the tray and left Clara's room.

 

* * *

 

"Make a left up here."  Clara's voice brought him out of his reverie.

 

"I know how to get to your grandmother's house."  The Doctor smoothly turned the car and then parked in front of the house.

 

"Control freak," she offered by way of explanation.  "Are you nervous?"

 

"A little.  I just hope she's happy for you."

 

Clara ran her hands down the Doctor's lapels, then leaned forward and kissed him.  "She won't react the same way Linda did.  You've got nothing to worry about."  She rang the doorbell and took a deep breath.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara tells Gran about the engagement, and we see a little more of Clara and the Doctor's history together

Clara's gran opened the door and smiled broadly.  "Clara, Doctor, I'm so glad you came to visit.  Come in, come in."  She hugged them both and ushered them into the dining room for tea and sandwiches.  She looked at their clasped hands and smiled knowingly.  "You mentioned that you have big news?"

 

Clara nodded and held up her left hand.  "We're getting married."

 

The Doctor squeezed Clara's right hand and held his breath.  He didn't care what Dave and Linda thought of him, but Gran reminded him of his favorite aunt.  A sharp word from her would wound him.

 

"It's about time!"  Gran smiled wider and came around the table to hug Clara.  "You're going to be such a beautiful bride."  She kissed Clara's cheek before turning to the Doctor and embracing him.  "You've felt like family for years.  It's wonderful you'll officially be joining our nuthouse."

 

The Doctor laughed in relief and returned the hug.  He caught Clara's eye over Gran's shoulder, and they grinned at each other.  He threaded his fingers between Clara's once Gran was seated across from them again.

 

"Tell me about the proposal."

 

Clara regaled her grandmother with the story of her dinner with the Doctor the night before.  Her eyes sparkled as she talked, and the Doctor's thoughts drifted away from the dining room the longer he stared at her.  He absently realized she was looking at him expectantly.  "You didn't hear a word I said, did you?"

 

The Doctor shook his head and looked at her guiltily.  "Sorry.  I was just admiring the way you light up when you talk about the proposal."

 

"Smooth save," she grinned.  "Gran was saying she has my mom's dress and thinks it might fit me.  I'm going to try it on.  You wait here."

 

He nodded and watched the two women leave.  The Doctor helped himself to another cup of tea and smiled when he heard their laughter.  A photo on the wall caught his eye, and he crossed the room to look at it.  It was of him and Clara, taken after they had been living together for about a month.  Clara gave Gran a new camera for her birthday, and the party had been at their house.  It was the first time he had met her family, and it hadn't gone as well as Clara had hoped.

 

* * *

 

 

"Doctor?"

 

He looked up from his work to find Clara hovering in the doorway to the office.  He put his pen down, took his glasses off, and turned his chair around to fully face her.  "What's up?"

 

"My grandmother's birthday is in a few days, and I was thinking that it might be nice if I invited her, Dad, and my stepmother over for a little party, and they could see the place.  If it's OK with you," she added quickly.

 

The Doctor shrugged.  "Fine by me."  Just let me know when, and I'll get out of the way."

 

Clara shifted nervously.  "I was actually thinking maybe you could stick around, and they could meet you too.  But only if you want to!"

 

"Oh."  He tried to think of a reason why he couldn't before deciding he was curious about Clara's family.  "I don't see why I couldn't," he said casually.

 

She gave him a relieved smile.  "You are seriously helping me out.  Thanks."  She turned to leave.

 

"Clara?"  The Doctor waited until Clara faced him before he continued.  "You live here too.  You don't need to ask permission to have people over.  Just give me a heads up so I can decide if I want to clear off."

 

Her smile grew.  "I'll keep that in mind."

 

The Doctor staying turned out to be beneficial.  Clara was so stressed the morning of the party that she burned the cake.  He shooed her out of the kitchen with a promise to use the fire extinguisher on her if she tried to come back.

 

"But the cake!" she protested.

 

"I can do it.  You can decorate it when I'm done, and I don't want you in this kitchen a minute sooner."  He shut the door behind her and moved a chair to barricade it.  "That girl should not be allowed near an oven."  The Doctor pulled his aunt's recipe box down from a tall shelf.  "Chocolate cake or vanilla?" he called, knowing Clara hadn't gone far.

 

"Vanilla cake with chocolate buttercream frosting."

 

The Doctor set to work and quickly mixed up the batter.  In no time at all he had two perfect round cakes on a cooling rack.  He prepared the buttercream frosting and filled a few piping bags.  When he was certain the cakes were cool, he moved the chair and allowed Clara to join him.  He handed a bowl of chocolate buttercream and a spreader.  "Frost."

 

She grinned at him.  "These look amazing!"

 

A light blush graced his cheeks.  He watched Clara spread the frosting for a few minutes then moved behind her.  "It's easier like this," he said as he corrected her grip on the spreader.  The Doctor spun the cake stand and guided her.  "Perfect."  He let go of her hand but remained right next to her.  When the top layer was in place and frosted, he showed her the piping bags he prepared.

 

"I don't know how to make designs," Clara admitted, bag in hand.

 

"Lucky thing I do then."  The Doctor showed her how to hold the bag and placed his hands over hers, fingers applying just the right amount of pressure to make frosting roses and leaves.

 

"Where did you learn how to do this?"  Clara risked a glance over her shoulder to see the Doctor's brows furrowed in concentration.

 

"I worked in a bakery before I became a writer.  I was always good at drawing and painting, and cake decorating was easy once I had the basics down."  He nodded appraisingly at the cake.  "Do you want to write on the cake or should I do it?"

 

"You please."  She ducked under his arm to give him more room and instantly missed his embrace.

 

"Feel free to tell me to mind my own business," he began slowly as he checked his spelling, "but why are you so high-strung today?"

 

Clara sighed.  "I guess I'm just nervous.  This is my first time living away from home or the dorms at school, and I'm just worried about how my family is going to react.  It's stupid, but I just really want them to approve, you know?"

 

The Doctor nodded in understanding.  "I remember desperately wanting to impress my parents with how well I was doing at your age."

 

"When did you stop caring what they think?"

 

  
"Never."

 

"Never?"  She sounded genuinely surprised.

 

"Never," he confirmed.  "Clara, we spend our entire lives looking for our parents' approval.  My father died ten years ago, and I still wonder if he would have been proud of the man I became."

 

"I think he would have," she said surely.  Clara smiled warmly.  "Thank you."  She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her cheek to his chest.

 

He nodded again.  "Did that actually help?"

 

"Yeah, it did."  She rose up on her toes and lightly kissed his cheek.  "Mmm, chocolate," she hummed in delight.  "You had some frosting on your face.  I got it."  Clara moved away and started to clean up, grinning to herself at the Doctor's frozen look of shock and embarrassment.

 

The doorbell rang, and the Doctor shook himself out of his stupor.  He ran his hands over his face to check for any remaining stray frosting as he walked through the hall, then opened the door.  He briefly wondered what Clara told her family about him when he was met with three surprised faces.  "Hello?"

 

"Hi.  Um, sorry to bother you, but I think we might have the wrong house.  We're looking for my daughter Clara?"  Her father glanced at the houses around them.  "Is she one of your neighbors?"

 

"You have the right house.  Come on in."  The Doctor opened the door wider and ushered them in.  He sighed in relief when Clara entered the hall.

 

"Dad!  Gran!  …Linda…"  She moved to hug them all.

 

"Clara!  You're looking good, kiddo."  Dave glanced over at the Doctor, who hovered awkwardly to the side.  "Are you going to introduce your friend here?"  Beside him, Linda rolled her eyes at the word 'friend', obviously thinking there was something going on between Clara and the Doctor.

 

"This is the Doctor.  He's my friend and roommate."

 

"Roommate?" Linda repeated in disbelief.  "Is that what they're calling it nowadays?"

 

"What are you insinuating?" the Doctor asked tersely.

 

"Just that it looks very suspicious for someone Clara's age to be living with someone your age," Linda said simply.  "Clara, are you shacking up with one of your teacher?"

 

"Oh my God," Clara covered her face, completely mortified.

 

The Doctor glared at Linda.  "We really are friends and roommates.  Nothing hinky or suspicious going on here.  I understand you're concerned for Clara's well-being, but she's safe and happy here."  He glanced over to Clara for confirmation, and she nodded.

 

"I don't like it," Linda told Dave.  "People will talk.  She needs to come home with us."

 

"What?  No!  I'm not going anywhere."

 

Dave sighed.  "We'll talk about this later.  For now, let's enjoy Gran's birthday."

 

Clara took her Gran's hand and led her to the living room.  "There's nothing to discuss," she said mutinously as they sat down.

 

They had a very tense afternoon.  Gran loved the camera Clara got her and happily took photos of Mittens, and she and the Doctor politely made small talk, but they were both aware that Clara and Linda were angry at each other, to the point that the Doctor refused to let Clara cut the cake.

 

"This is good cake," Dave complimented.

 

"The Doctor made it," Clara piped up.  "And decorated it."

 

"It's lovely."  Gran beamed at the Doctor, and he smiled shyly.

 

Linda scoffed, and the Doctor's patience disappeared.  "Right, you've obviously got a problem with me, so let's talk about that."

 

"It's not appropriate for you and Clara to be living together!"

 

"Is the problem my age?  Or is it that I'm a man?"

 

Linda ignored his questions.  "How do we know you're not taking advantage of her?"

 

"How dare you?"  Clara was on her feet and stood in front of the Doctor protectively.  "He has been nothing but kind and accommodating to me."  She pointed at Mittens.  "He opened his home to me and my cat.  There's a study space for me downstairs when classes start up again in September.  My expenses are way cheaper than they'd be anywhere else in the city, and he knows he could ask me for more money than he is.  He's a good man, and he hasn't asked me for anything in return."

 

"Clara-" her father began.

 

"Don't you 'Clara' me."  She raked her fingers through her hair, and the Doctor saw her arms shaking.  She walked over to her grandmother and hugged her.  "Sorry, Gran," she whispered.  Raising her voice again, she addressed Dave and Linda.  "I think you should go now."  Clara marched up the stairs and slammed her bedroom door, leaving everyone else slack-jawed.

 

The Doctor was the first to recover.  "Well, it was certainly interesting meeting you all."  He offered Gran a sincere smile.  "I can see why you're her favorite."

 

Gran hugged him carefully.  "Dave will come around sooner or later.  Her, not so much, but who cares what she thinks?  Keep an eye on Clara?"

 

"Always," he promised.  The Doctor ushered them out the door and locked it.  A creak on the stairs made him turn around and find Clara there.  "Well, I can see why you were nervous," he said, trying to keep his tone light.

 

"I'm so sorry about that," she looked down at the floor in shame.

 

"It's OK.  Thanks for defending me."

 

"It's not OK.  I shouldn't have had to defend you."

 

He shrugged half-heartedly.  "I can understand it.  If I had a daughter, I'd be worried if she were in our situation."

 

"Really?"

 

"Really.  But you're an adult and capable of making your own choices.  They don't have to like your choices, but they do have to respect them."

 

* * *

 

 

The photo showed Clara and the Doctor standing next to each other in the kitchen, Gran's cake and a carton of ice cream in front of them.  The Doctor was concerned that Clara might lose her temper and stab Linda- he was afraid she would take him up on his joking offer to help her hide a body- and insisted he would cut the cake instead.

 

"Use those taekwondo muscles of yours and scoop the ice cream," he had told her as he smoothly removed the large knife from her hand and replaced it with the scoop.

 

She had scowled at him, but he immediately told a joke, and they laughed together.  Gran had snapped the photo while they were both still giggling, and the Doctor had to admit that it was a good picture of them.

 

"Doctor?" Clara called his name softly.  "What do you think?"

 

He turned around to look at her, and his breath hitched.

 

Clara stood in front of him in her mother's gown.  It was a lovely ivory color and skimmed her curves.  The short-sleeve dress was fairly plain with a little beading detail, but it highlighted her natural beauty.

 

The Doctor opened and closed his mouth a few times before he was able to find words.  "Clara, you look absolutely stunning."

 

"You like it?"  She had blushed at the compliment and twisted her hands nervously.

 

"I do." He pulled her into his arms and kissed her softly.  "Are you sure it's OK for me to see this before the wedding?:

 

Clara chuckled.  "Neither one of us is superstitious, so it should be fine."  She kissed him again.  "I'll change and we can go?"

 

"Deal."

 

Once Clara was dressed in her normal clothes again, they said their goodbyes to an ecstatic Gran and left, wedding dress carefully laid on the back seat of the TARDIS.  Confident that the Doctor would get them home safely, Clara let her mind wander.

 

* * *

 

 

The second time they sleep together coincides with the first time Clara asks for his opinion on her schoolwork.  It was also when she realized just how much she cared about him.

 

It was about a month after their first time together.  Clara felt frustrated because they never talked about what that night signified for their friendship.  She had returned from lunch with Gran ready to have a discussion with the Doctor, but apparently he had made a decision while she was gone.  He wasn't exactly cold to her- more guarded, like he was afraid of what she would say but not having enough courage to say how he felt about it himself.  The truth was, Clara wasn't sure how she felt about what happened, but she grew tired of him ducking her and gave up trying to discuss it with him.  She sighed loudly.

 

"Are you OK?"  Amy, Rory, and their new friend Danny Pink were all looking at her in concern.

 

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

 

"You've been alternating between looking like you're on top of the world and like you're upset about something for the last few weeks.  What's going on?"  Danny asked, taking a bite from his sandwich.

 

Clara's eyes met Amy's and then looked away.  Rory gently nudged Amy's shoulder, prompting her to ask, "Is it a girl thing?"

 

"Sort of?"

 

"C'mon, we've got over an hour until our next class.  We can have a chat."

 

Clara nodded and followed Amy out of the dining hall.  When they were outside, Clara admitted quietly, "I slept with the Doctor."

 

"What?!  Tell me everything!"

 

"You have to promise not to tell Rory and Danny."  When Amy promised, Clara told her about their night a month ago.  "And we haven't talked about it, so I don't know if I'm supposed to pretend it never happened or what."

 

"Do you want to pretend it never happened?  Or is it something you'd like to happen again?"

 

"I want it to happen again."  Clara's face was red as she whispered her confession.  "But he won't talk to me about the first time, so I don't even know how to tell him I want it to do it again."

 

Amy thought for a minute.  "You know that creative writing assignment we have due?  Does the Doctor know you've already done it?"

 

Clara shook her head.  "I don't get too specific when he asks how school was."

 

Amy continued, "Write a fake story that lets him know you're interested, then ask him to proofread it.  If you're obvious, he should be able to put two and two together."

 

Clara nodded slowly.  "OK.  That sounds like a good plan.  Thanks, Amy."  She flashed her a grateful smile.

 

"No problem.  Let's get to class."

 

Two nights later, Clara approached the Doctor with a stack of paper.  "Hey Doctor?  Do you think maybe you could proofread this paper for me and tell me what you think?"

 

The Doctor had been tensed to run away when Clara called him, but he relaxed when she asked for his help.  "Sure.  What was the assignment?"

 

"Oh, it's for my creative writing class.  We were told to write about anything we want."

 

He nodded and started reading the short story.  He got through two pages reading about a young woman named Tara with a crush on an older man called the Professor before things got interesting.  The Doctor glanced up from reading the story to see Clara watching him intently.  He lost his place on the page, and when he looked back down at the paper, Tara was on her knees licking the Professor's length.  The Doctor's eyes widened in surprise, and he sat up straighter in his chair.

 

"Is anything wrong?"  Clara asked innocently.

 

"No, no.  I was just thinking it was weird for me to look for mistakes in your writing in front of you," he lied.  He stood up and edged his way to the door.  "So I'm going to go upstairs to finish this, and then I'll bring it back to you later."  Without waiting for a response, the Doctor went to his bedroom and shut the door.  He sat on his bed and put his face in his hands.  "If I didn't know any better, I would think she's doing this to tell me something."

 

The Doctor spent the last month avoiding Clara because he worried if she was with her too much, he would beg to spend another night in her bed.  He hadn't been with a woman since his wife died years ago until Clara, and he finally felt like he was moving on. 

He felt weak for wanting her, but that night was as much a comfort for him as it was for her.  He couldn't even smell her perfume anymore without remembering the feel of her squirming beneath him.

 

"OK, time to focus."  The Doctor picked up Clara's story and continued to read.  Objectively, he knew Clara was a strong writer and wouldn't need his help for that.  Her story was erotic, and as the Doctor read about Tara and the Professor, he found himself growing aroused.  He closed his eyes and freed his erection from his trousers.  His breathing sped up and he stroked himself, and he couldn't even feel guilty as how easily he imagined Clara's hand instead of his own.  He moaned quietly and was thankful Clara was still downstairs because of the shared wall.  "Oh Clara," he sighed.

 

"Doctor?"  Clara knocked on his door.

 

His eyes snapped open.  "Just  a minute!  Coming!"  He quickly tucked himself back into his trousers and crossed the room.  The doorknob turned before he reached it, and Clara let herself in.  "What are you-" he trailed off when he saw Clara's black lace negligee and bright red lipstick.  "-wearing?"  She walked past him, and he had to stop himself from reaching for her.

 

Clara kneeled on his bed and perched against the pillows.  "Did you finish my story?"

 

The Doctor blushed.  "Not yet."

 

She patted the empty space next to her.  "Finish reading."  Once the Doctor was settled next to her on his bed, Clara stretched her legs out and turned on her side to face him.  "What do you think of my writing?"  She reached out and ran her fingers up and down his arm.

 

The Doctor sighed happily and leaned into her touch.  "It's good.  Real good."  Clara threaded her fingers into his hair.  "Oh, that's good."  He moved his arms around her and pulled her closer to his body, savoring her warmth.  He buried his face against her neck and inhaled the scent of her perfume.

 

Clara shoved the papers off the bed and moved to straddle the Doctor's hips.  His hands gripped her thighs, and she leaned over him, gently brushing her lips over his.  "Is this OK?" she whispered, pulling back to look in his eyes.

 

Pupils blown, the Doctor licked his lips and nodded.  His hands moved up her sides to cup her face, and he pulled her in for another kiss.  Clara's fingers traced his chest before tugging on his shirt.  He broke their kiss long enough to pull his shirt off and toss it aside, thrusting his tongue into her mouth as soon as he kissed her again.  Clara moaned into the kiss and slowly ground her hips against the Doctor's, making him groan in return.  His moan turned into a whine when she moved down his body to trail hot open-mouthed kisses across his chest and stomach.  She seemed determined to kiss every bit of his skin within reach, and at first the Doctor was confused by that, until he caught sight of the bright red lip prints left behind.

 

"Are you marking me?" he chuckled breathlessly.

 

Clara grinned.  "Just letting you know who the boss is."

 

He pulled her back up and crushed his lips to hers.  "God, you're amazing."

 

Clara quickly undid the fastenings on the Doctor's trousers, and he lifted his hips off the bed to help her remove them.  He moaned when Clara stroked his cock, already moist from his own hand's attention moments ago.  Clara used her hands to pin his hips to the bed and flashed him a mischievous smirk before licking his length and taking it in her mouth.  The Doctor decided right then that the most perfect color in the world was whatever shade of lipstick was wore while her lips were wrapped around his cock.  Clara's tongue swirled around his tip, and he was unable to hold back a shout, hands reaching out for her.

 

"Clara," he called to get her attention.  Her eyes flicked up to meet his while she sucked him, and he groaned.  "Clara, I need you.  Please, Clara."  The Doctor hated that he was begging, but he couldn't help himself.

 

Clara, however, grew more excited from his pleading.  She slipped him out of her mouth and pressed a kiss to the tip.  She left the bed, and the Doctor sat up quickly, thinking he said something wrong.  Clara gave him a reassuring smile and put a leg on his bed, motioning for him to come closer and help her remove her garters and stockings.  He peeled her soaked panties off and tore the negligee in his rush to see and feel her skin.  Her pulled her into his lap and moaned when his cock brushed her folds, feeling just how much she wanted him too.

 

"Lean back against the pillows," she ordered.  Satisfied with his position, Clara sank down onto the Doctor's length, and they both moaned at how perfectly he filled her.  She brought her knees in tight against his sides and began to move.  The Doctor matched her quick pace thrust for thrust and moaned loudly as he neared orgasm.

 

Clara felt that sweet tension building inside and rocked against the Doctor faster.  Her nails dug into his shoulder, and he called her name as he came.  He pulled her down harder and rubbed quick circles against her clit, desperate to get her off too.  Clara gave a cry of her own, and he felt her pulse around his cock.  She kissed him deeply and pulled back to look in his eyes.  "You're pretty amazing yourself, you know."

 

She climbed off his lap, and he quickly pulled her into his arms.  The Doctor stroked her hair gently and whispered, "What are we doing?"

 

Clara knew he was asking in the general sense.  "I don't know," she admitted.  "But I know I like you a lot, and I'm willing to explore this."

 

"I like you too, but I can't be your traditional sort of boyfriend, Clara."  The words he left unspoken were his wish that he could be.

 

She shrugged.  "I'm not your traditional sort of girlfriend either.  But why do we have to label it?  Can't we just be the Doctor and Clara and know we're important to each other?"  She held her breath and prayed for him to agree with her.

 

"OK."

 

"OK?"  She sounded surprised that he agreed so easily.

 

"OK."  His voice was firm, but his smile and kiss were gentle.  He nodded at the papers strewn across the floor.  "So I'm guessing that wasn't your actual homework then?"

 

Clara laughed.  "Definitely not.  It was Amy's idea to let you know I was interested."

 

"Smart girl, that Amelia Pond."

 

The next day Amy received two gift baskets, one from Clara and one from the Doctor, both with notes thanking her for her advice.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Clara's memory was interrupted by a jarring thought.  "Doctor?"

 

"Hm?"

 

"Did you call your sister today and tell her the news?"

 

The Doctor gave her a dark look.  "Why do we have to tell her?"

 

"Because she's family!  And because it was technically her doing.  She's the one that convinced you to take out the ad.  Besides, we're going to pass near her house on the way home anyway."

 

"Sometimes I hate you."

 

"No you don't.  You love me."  Clara batted her eyes at him.

 

"I suppose I might be fond of you," he teased back.  The Doctor reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone.  He held it out to Clara.  "Can you dial her number for me?"

 

Clara pulled up his contacts list.  "Doctor, there are no names here, just nicknames.  What do you have her saved under?"

 

"Try Pudding Brain."

 

"There are seven different Pudding Brains."  She scrolled through his contacts trying to figure out what his nickname for her was.  "Impossible Girl?"

 

"You are impossible," he defended.

 

Clara sighed in exasperation and pulled out her own phone to call the Doctor's sister.  When the other line started ringing, she handed her phone to him.

 

"Clara, what a surprise!"

 

"Not Clara," the Doctor corrected.

 

"Doctor, and called from Clara's phone.  This is an even bigger surprise.  What can I do for you?"

 

"Are you home?  We're in the neighborhood and wanted to talk to you."  He swatted at Clara, who was trying to change her nickname in his phone.

 

"Please do.  I'll see you soon."  She gave a high-pitched giggle.

 

"See you soon.  Bye, Missy."  He tossed the phone to Clara, and she caught it.  "If she keeps us there for the rest of the day it's your fault."

 

"Save the complaining for your next marriage," Clara teased with a wink.

%MCEPASTEBIN%


	6. Chapter Six

When they arrived at Missy's house, she brought them out into her beautiful garden.  She offered them tea, but they declined, still full from the tea and snacks Clara's gran served.  She took both of Clara's hands in her own and smiled knowingly.  "What did you want to talk about?"

 

"Clara and I are getting married."

 

Missy's grin widened, and she tightened her hold on Clara's hands.  "I always knew you would end up together.  Congratulations."  She looked at the Doctor.  "Mother's ring looks perfect on her."

 

The Doctor nodded his agreement.  "We're planning on a spring wedding."

 

Missy nodded.  "That will be lovely.  There's a bridal expo coming up at the convention center next month.  You should go."

 

Clara smiled.  "Sounds great.  We want a small wedding, so we shouldn't need much."

 

She nodded again.  "So I get credit for setting you up, right?"

 

The Doctor looked at Missy.  "How do you figure that you were the one to set us up?"

 

"I'm the one that convinced you to put out the ad looking for a roommate.  If Clara wasn't looking for a place to live, you never would have met each other."

 

"That's just luck.  You didn't actively do anything to get us together."

 

"Didn't I, Doctor?"

 

* * *

 

 

The first time Clara met Missy it was during her first Christmas with the Doctor.

 

It was the morning of Christmas Eve, and Clara was going to take the train back home to spend Christmas with her family.  She invited the Doctor to come along with her, but he declined.  Clara's father was finally starting to come around and like him a little bit, and he thought Clara bringing him home with her might ruin that.

 

"Besides, it's probably best not to give Linda more fodder to dislike me," he pointed out.  They were in the TARDIS, and he was dropping her off at the train station.

 

Clara rolled her eyes.  "She still doesn't like me, and she's been my stepmother for years.  Her only problem with you is probably your association with me."  She pointed at an empty parking spot, and he turned into it.  Before Clara could even unbuckle her seat belt, the Doctor was already outside and grabbing her bag from the trunk.  "Eager to get rid of me?" she teased.

 

"Not at all, just want to make sure you make your train on time."  He ran a hand through his hair.  "To be honest, it's going to be way too quiet in that house without you around."

 

"It'll only be a couple days.  I'll be back for New Year's.  You're still coming with me to Amy and Rory's party, yeah?"

 

The Doctor nodded.  "I'll be there."  He grinned.  "If I don't go, some stranger would get stuck kissing you at midnight," he winked.

 

Clara blushed.  "Keep talking like that and it'll be a good thing you're not coming for Christmas with my family.  But seriously, are you going to be OK spending it alone?"  She looked at him in concern.

 

"I'll be fine.  I've spent the last few Christmases alone.  I'll probably just watch movies and get some work done.  Now go, you're going to miss your train."  He held Clara's bag to her.  She reached for it with one hand and quickly pulled him in for a hug with her free arm.  The Doctor reluctantly hugged her back for a moment, then pulled away.  "Have a safe trip."

 

"You too."  Clara turned away and walked towards the train station, turning back to wave once she reached the door.  The Doctor gave her a small wave in return and waited until she was inside the building before he got back in the TARDIS and drove away.

 

The roads were pretty empty, and the Doctor had a quick drive back home.  He turned into the driveway and frowned at the car he didn't recognize parked in front of the house.  He looked at the house and saw a woman sitting on his porch.  She wore a long purple skirt with matching jacket and was holding an umbrella and large handbag.  The Doctor took a deep breath, said a silent prayer, and opened the car door.  "Missy!  This is surprising.  I thought you were going to be in Spain for Christmas?"

 

Missy smiled demurely at him.  "Change in plans, brother dear.  I'm leaving for Spain in a few days.  When I found out I'd be here for Christmas, I thought it would be a marvelous idea to visit you since it's been so long."  She wrapped her arms around him in a hug, and he surprised her when he didn't hesitate in returning the embrace.

 

"I've been working on the hugging thing," he explained.  The Doctor unlocked the door and invited her inside.  He went straight to the kitchen to put on the kettle, but Missy hung back in the hallway to look around the house.

 

"You've redecorated.  I'm not sure if I like it."  The only answer she received was a chuckle, and she took in the things that changed in the two years since she had seen him.  Some new pictures, stylish throw pillows, and a hand-knit blanket on the back of the couch were the first things she noticed.  "Are you seeing someone?"

 

That question seemed to come out of left field.  The Doctor poked his head out of the kitchen.  "No.  Why do you ask?"

 

Missy used her umbrella to point at some shoes stacked neatly by the door.  "Cute high heels, but they're too small to be yours.  This green jacket is also too small for you."  She moved into the living room, and he followed her.  "There's a family picture here, and it's not our family.  You were never one for accessorizing, so I know you didn't pick out these pillows or the blanket.  You would tell me if you got a pet, but there's a sleeping cat over there, so he's obviously not yours.  And you hate decorating for Christmas, but I see a tree, lights, and three stockings.  Who is she, and why haven't you told me about her?"

 

The Doctor rolled his eyes.  "She's not a girlfriend, she's a roommate.  I did tell you about Clara, you just haven't visited to meet her.  I dropped her off at the train station today, otherwise I'd introduce you.  That's her."  He pointed at Clara in her family picture.

 

Missy's eyebrows went up, but she said nothing.

 

"What?" he asked.

 

"Nothing, nothing," she insisted quickly.  "Where did you find her?"

 

"She answered the ad I put out looking for a roommate.  You remember, the ad you pushed me into placing last spring."

 

"So you're saying I'm the one that set you two up."  A sly smile spread over Missy's face.  "She's very pretty."

 

His cheeks turned pink.  "I hadn't noticed," he lied.  The kettle whistled, and he excused himself back to the kitchen.

 

"So have you-" the sound of a mug breaking interrupted Missy, and she hurried to follow her brother.

 

"No!" he insisted, blushing scarlet.  "Why would you ask that?" The Doctor looked scandalized as he cleaned up the mug pieces.

 

Missy looked at him innocently.  "I was just wondering if you read any interested books lately.  What did you think I was asking you?"

 

He shifted uncomfortably.  "It's not important."  He thought for a moment, glad for the opportunity to keep the topic away from his pretty roommate.  "I read a pretty good book last week.  I can't remember what it's called, and I loaned it to Clara for her train ride.  When she's done with it, you can borrow it."  They brought their tea into the living room and settled onto the couch.

 

She nodded.  "Before I forget, I got you a little something."  Missy reached into her handbag and pulled out a small wrapped package.  "It reminded me of when we were kids, so I got it for you."  She held it out to the Doctor.

 

He gave her a small smile.  "You didn't have to do that."  He tore open the paper and laughed in disbelief at the box of metal toy soldiers in his hands.  "Seriously?"

 

Missy shrugged.  "Call it nostalgia.  Merry Christmas."

 

 "Thank you, I think.  I already mailed your present."  He reached out and hugged his sister.  "Merry Christmas."

 

The front door opened, and Clara ran in.  "Doctor?  I-oh, sorry."  She stopped short when she saw the Doctor and Missy on the couch.

 

The Doctor quickly stood up.  "Clara!  Is everything OK?"

 

She nodded but didn't meet the Doctor's eyes.  "I didn't realize you were going to have company."  She took her coat off and hung it on the rack in the hall then slipped her boots off.

 

"Missy dropped by unannounced.  She was here when I got back from dropping you off.  Wait, how did you get here?"  He guided her to the couch and sat her between himself and Missy.  "You're freezing."

 

"I took a bus from the train station to the university, and then I walked from there," Clara shivered.

 

He shook his head and sighed.  "Impossible girl.  You should have called.  I would have come back for you."  The Doctor reached for the blanket on the couch and wrapped it around Clara's shoulders.  "Wait here, I'll get you something warm."  He picked up Mittens and put him on Clara's lap for extra warmth.

 

Missy rolled her eyes.  "Since he's being rude and didn't introduce me, I suppose I'll have to do it myself.  I'm Missy."

 

"Clara."  She looked down at her feet for a moment, feeling awkward.  "Sorry for ruining your date."

 

Missy gave a short, horrified laugh.  "Oh Clara, you didn't ruin anything.  I'm his sister."

 

Clara looked startled at that piece of information.  "Sister?  So you're not?" she trailed off, biting her lip.

 

The older woman looked exasperated.  "Yes, his sister.  Do try to keep up."

 

The Doctor came back with a mug of hot chocolate.  "Here, it's that instant powder junk you love so much."  He pressed the mug into Clara's hands, and she accepted the warmth gratefully, curling her fingers around it. He sat next to her and flinched a bit when Clara leaned into him, hoping to steal his warmth.

 

"How come I didn't know you have a sister?" Clara questioned.

 

He raised his eyebrows.  "I must have mentioned her at some point."

 

She shook her head.  "Not that I remember."

 

Missy reached over Clara to swat at the Doctor's arm.  "I am really hurt you didn't mention me to her.  How long have you two known each other?"

 

Clara quickly did the math.  "About 7 months."

 

"Seven months, and he doesn't mention me.  Meanwhile I've been here for about two hours, and he talked about you for at least ten minutes."  She turned to the Doctor.  "I could shoot you in a jealous rage," she said playfully.  Missy looked back and forth between Clara and the Doctor.  "I think I should be heading out.  It was lovely to meet you,” she addressed Clara.

 

"Nice to meet you too," Clara said politely. 

 

"I'll have to have you over for tea soon," Missy said with a manic grin.  "I can tell you embarrassing stories about what he was like growing up."

 

Clara giggled, but the Doctor looked horrified.  "Don't you dare," he warned, reaching for Missy's handbag and coat.

 

"I wouldn't dream of it," Missy assured him.  When his back was turned, she mouthed 'yes, I would' to Clara, and they both laughed silently.  The Doctor turned back to them quickly, suspicious of the silence, and they both looked at him innocently.

 

The Doctor sighed.  Missy and Clara could either make his life hell by getting along swimmingly or by hating each other.  He honestly wasn't sure which he preferred.  They were both clever women, and that always made things difficult.  He looked up and wished them getting along to be the lesser of two evils.  "Off you go then.  I'm sure you have some sort of mayhem to cause for Christmas.  Maybe find some children and tell them Santa doesn't exist or torture Tiny Tim," the Doctor said as he walked Missy to the door.

 

"Say something nice, and then I'll go," she baited.

 

He thought for a moment.  "You were right.  About a roommate being good for me."

 

"I know."  She walked outside, and the Doctor closed the door behind her.  He had already turned around to check on Clara and didn't see Missy point her phone at the window on the door, using an app to mess with something in the house.

 

The Doctor sat down next to Clara again.  "Are you sure you're OK?"

 

Clara nodded.  "I'm sure."

 

"Why didn't you get on the train then?"  He watched her curiously, not understanding why she would choose to come back to him instead of going home to the family she loved.

 

 

"I almost did," she admitted.  "But when I opened my bag to get my ticket, I realized I still had your present."

 

 

"Please tell me you didn't seriously miss your train for that," he interrupted.

 

 

"Shut up, and I'll finish telling you the reason.  I saw your present in my bag, and I couldn't stop thinking about you being here by yourself with just Mittens for company."  Clara reached out and took one of his hands.  "No one should be alone for Christmas," she said softly.

 

 

He gave her a small smile.  "I appreciate that, but I think your dad and gran are going to be disappointed you're not there."

 

"Yeah… They'll both get over it, but I doubt I'll hear the end of it from Linda."

 

 

"I'll make you a deal.  We'll do something Christmassy together today, and tomorrow morning I'll drive you to your father's.  I'll leave after dinner, and you can either come with me or take the train back in a couple days, like you had originally planned.  Sound good?"

 

Clara smiled.  "Perfect."

 

"What do you want to do tonight then?"

 

"Can we watch Christmas movies?  We can take turns picking the movies until we're ready for bed? "

 

"Deal.  You can pick the first movie, but I call 'Die Hard' as my pick."

 

She stared at him.  "'Die Hard' is not a Christmas movie."

 

"Yes it is," he argued.  "It takes place during Christmas, there's Christmas decorations, and there's Christmas music in it.  Ergo, Christmas movie."

 

"By that logic, 'Jaws 4' is also a Christmas movie," Clara deadpanned.

 

"And that is my second choice if we haven't decided to go to bed by then."  He glared at her, daring her to challenge his choice in movies.

 

Clara watched him carefully as she weighed her options.  If she insisted he pick a real Christmas movie, he might change his mind and decide not to spend the evening with her after all.  She definitely didn't want that, but she didn't really want to watch those movies either.  But if she gave in, she could get her revenge by picking movies he probably wouldn't like.  Decisions, decisions.  "Fine, you win.  You can choose 'Die Hard' and 'Jaws 4' for your picks."

 

The Doctor grinned triumphantly for a moment before he realized the implications of Clara giving in.  "What's the catch?  You don't just give in like that, so there has to be a catch."

 

"No catch," Clara said, and he began to relax.  "Although-" The Doctor tensed again.  "What if we had a pajama party while we watched the movies?  When I was little my mum and I would do that every Christmas Eve.  We've have cocoa and popcorn, and I would always fall asleep watching the movies and waiting for Santa."

 

The Doctor smiled.  "That sounds like fun.  When Missy and I were growing up our mum and dad would always read us 'The Polar Express' and 'Twas The Night Before Christmas'."  He had to blink back tears for a moment as he remembered those Christmases, and he cleared his throat.  "OK, so even though it's only 4, let's get ready for a pajama party.  I'll make the snacks, you set up the living room."

 

Clara smiled sweetly.  "At least it's getting dark out, so it feels later than it is."  She walked over to the small Christmas tree, plugged the lights in, and picked up one of the presents.  "Here, you can change into these."  She handed the gift bag to the Doctor.

 

"I thought you said you had my present?" he asked in confusion, digging through the tissue paper and pulling out the plaid pajama set.

 

"Technically I got you two things.  New pajamas is a Christmas Eve tradition in my house.  We all wear our new pajamas for pictures Christmas morning.  You'll get your other present in the morning.  Can I open this now?" she asked, accepting a box from him. 

 

"No, I thought you might like to see it, but you can't have it yet," he answered sarcastically.

 

Clara rolled her eyes and tore into the paper.  "Aww, cute Rudolph pajamas. And matching slippers!” she cheered. Clara swiftly stuffed her feet into the slippers and laughed when they lit up every time she moved. She quickly moved behind the Doctor and wrapper her arms around his middle.

 

“Not the hugging!” he complained, but allowed himself to smile since Clara couldn't see.

 

“It's Christmas, you have to let me hug you.”

 

The Doctor turned around in Clara's arms and rested his cheek on top of her head for a moment before pulling away. “You got your hug. Now let's get set up for movie night.” He moved into the kitchen and loaded a tray up popcorn and Christmas cookies they baked the previous day before making hot chocolate- the old fashioned way, not the crappy instant powder he made for Clara earlier.

 

Clara pulled four DVDs out of their movie rack and put them on the coffee table. 'Die Hard,' 'Jaws 4', 'How The Grinch Stole Christmas,' and 'Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer' were the choices. She carefully moved the furniture and left a big open space in the center of the room. Clara located the air mattress the Doctor stored in the basement and brought it upstairs, stopping at the linen closet to grab some extra blankets and pillows. Clara put the finishing touches on what she referred to as the blanket nest and was about to go upstairs to change when the Doctor came back with the food. He took a seat on the couch, and Clara gave him an offended look. “Doctor!”

 

“What?”

 

“I made us a nice place to watch the movies down there,” she punctuated her sentence by pointing at the air mattress.  "I'm going to put my pajamas on.  When I get back down, you had better be on that mattress."

 

The Doctor gave a loud sigh and dramatically threw himself onto the air mattress.  He did have to admit that Clara was right; this was going to be comfortable.  He helped himself to a couple cookies and put the disc for one of Clara's choices in the DVD player.  He heard Clara's footsteps on the stairs, but she didn't come back in the living room.  The Doctor turned to see what the hold-up was, but he couldn't see her.

 

"Doctor?"

 

He stood up and joined her in the hallway.  "What?"

 

Clara pointed at the ceiling, and they both tilted their heads back to look up.  "Why is there light-up mistletoe on our ceiling?"

 

The Doctor shook his head.  "I don't know."

 

"Where did it come from?"

 

"I don't… Missy!"  He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and saw a text message.

 

MISSY: Hope you like the second gift I left you. 

 

Face burning, he quickly sent his sister a rude message before stuffing his phone back in his pocket.  The Doctor reached up and removed the mistletoe from the ceiling.  "Why do they even make light-up mistletoe?"  He held it out so Clara could get a good look at it.

 

Clara shrugged.  "I guess to get attention so two people know if they're under it."  She reached out to take it from him.  Feeling impulsive, Clara used her hold on his hand to pull the Doctor down to her level and gave him a peck on the cheek.  She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at the shocked expression on his face.  "Merry Christmas, Doctor."

 

His voice was low when he responded.  "Merry Christmas, Clara Oswald."  They both grinned at each other and sprinted back to the living room to flop down onto the mattress and watch their movies.

 

* * *

 

 

"I suppose you did try setting us up, but we got together on our own," the Doctor insisted.

 

Clara snorted.  "Yeah, OK."

 

"We did!"

 

"You and I both know Amy is the reason we got together when we did.  But that's not really the point.  The point is that without the people that care about us, the people that know we're good for each other- even though we're sometimes bad for each other- without them, we wouldn't be where we are today."  Clara laced her fingers through the Doctor's.

 

Missy pretended to dab at her eyes.  "You should remember that for your wedding vows."

 

The Doctor rolled his eyes.  "Knowing Clara, she'll probably quote Jane Austen in her vows.  I'll use it for mine though."

 

Clara swatted his shoulder playfully.  "You can't use my words when you're promising me you're going to be a good husband.  It's bad form."

 

He rubbed his shoulder even though she hadn't hit him hard enough to hurt.  "Even if I cite you as my source?"

 

"Bad form," Clara repeated, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips.

 

"Yes, dear," he murmured against her mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not entirely happy with how this chapter ended, so may rework it at some point. For now, I give up because I want to move on to the next chapter. Will probably be a bit of time to the next update- I'm the maid of honor in a wedding next weekend, so crunch time with last minute prep.


	7. Chapter Seven

The Doctor let out a relieved sigh as he turned the TARDIS into the driveway.  "Home sweet home."

 

Clara rolled her eyes at him.  "It wasn't that bad, was it?"

 

"We spent the day with our families.  It was that bad."

 

She shrugged and opened the rear passenger door to retrieve her dress.  "It could have been so much worse."  At the Doctor's raised eyebrow, Clara continued," Missy could have been here when Linda was insulting you.  I don't think your sister would have let her off lightly."  She paused, considering that.  "We should have everyone over for dinner some time.  Could be hilarious."  Clara stood up again and closed the door.

 

The Doctor didn't respond.  He was eyeing a sleek, black car that just pulled up in front of the house.  Two muscular men got out, and he paled.  They hung back by the car, seemingly paying no attention to Clara and the Doctor as they opened the trunk of the car and cracked jokes.

 

"Who are they?"

 

He kept the men in his sight but moved closer to Clara, body tensed and voice low.  "Never mind that.  I want you to go inside, lock the doors, and go upstairs with Amy and Rory."  He handed his keys to her.  "I'll let you know when it's safe."

 

"So this is dangerous?  I'm not going to leave you in danger!" she protested.

 

"I will be fine," he hissed as the men turned and slowly approached.  "But you need to warn the Ponds.  Now do as you are told!"

 

Clara glared at him.  "You're an idiot."  Her eyes stung with hot tears as she marched to the house.  In his peripheral vision, the Doctor watched Amy and Rory head to the hallway, and he heard the lock click into place.

 

"I know," he whispered before turning fully to face the duo now about ten feet away from him.  "Mickey Smith and Jack Harkness, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

 

"Got a job for you, John," Mickey said.

 

The Doctor scowled.  "I don't do those kinds of jobs anymore."

 

"We think you want this one," Jack said.  "It would be a shame if anything happened to your pretty girl to prevent her from wearing that white dress."  He waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the open trunk.  "What was her name again, Mickey?"

 

"Clara Oswald, daughter of Dave and Ellie Oswald and stepdaughter of Linda Oswald.  Works as an English teacher at Coal Hill School.  We've been watching you two for a while," Mickey said with a cruel smile.

 

"Leave her out of this," the Doctor growled.  "She's got nothing to do with any of it."

 

"She's involved with you, and that's enough to make her a bargaining chip.  This job requires your particular skills.  Do it, and we leave you and your bride alone," Jack said.

 

"Not to mention Rory Williams and Amelia Pond.  We know about everyone living in that house, John," Mickey added.

 

The Doctor sighed.  "I'm not agreeing, but what would I have to do?"

 

Mickey handed him a folder.  "Rival organization stole from the boss.  She wants you to get it back."

 

The Doctor opened the folder and scanned the contents.  "How the hell did Cybermen steal from UNIT?"

 

Jack shrugged carelessly.  "No idea, but the boss is working on finding out.  So are you going to do the job or do you need more persuading?"

 

"Like I have any choice.  Tell Kate I'll do it, but only because UNIT is the lesser of two evils."

 

Mickey nodded.  "Do it quickly, and she'll make it worth your while."  Mickey gestured to Jack.  "Didn't you have a message for him too?"

 

Jack flashed the Doctor a disarming grin as he cracked his knuckles.  In two quick steps Jack was right in front of the Doctor, and he didn't have time to duck before Jack's fist connected with his right eye.  "Don't screw it up, John.  If you fail, we have orders to take Clara."

 

The Doctor braced himself against the side of the TARDIS before sliding to the ground.  "I won't fail," he promised, covering his eye with his hand.  His left eye tracked Jack and Mickey as they strutted back to their car, Jack pausing to close the trunk and express his displeasure that they didn't get to kidnap the Doctor to get him to take the job.  They pulled away, and the Doctor heard the front door open and quick footsteps.  He let his head fall back against the TARDIS with a light thunk and groaned in pain before focusing on the petite woman in front of him.

 

Clara's hands were on her hips, and she looked furious even as she extended a hand to help him up.  The Doctor knew she wanted to yell; she just hadn't picked which thing to focus on first.  Hiding her way, keeping her in the dark, not listening when she wanted him to come inside and getting hurt.  She pursed her lips, and he could see her face getting redder as she chose her first words.  She decided on, "I told you I didn't want to leave you in danger."

 

"That was hardly danger.  They let me off easy," he grunted as Clara helped him into the house.  He muttered a thank you to Rory for the offered bag of frozen peas and hissed when the bag came into contact with his eye.  "They didn't even resort to taking me for a ride in the trunk of the car.  Must be going soft."

 

"Who were those guys?"  Amy demanded.

 

"Old friends," he answered evasively.  "I can honestly say it's better for you and Rory not to know much."

 

"I can see why you don't host dinner parties that often then.  But what about Clara?" Rory asked.  "Are you going to insist she's safer not knowing?"

 

The Doctor chuckled darkly.  "No."  He turned to Clara.  "We need to talk, and I think we should do it upstairs."  He walked away, not bothering to check if she followed, just knowing she was right behind him.  He gingerly sat on the edge of their bed and patted the open space beside him.

 

Clara ignored him and grabbed the chair from the other side of the room.  She dragged it in front of the Doctor and sat down.  One of her hands rested carefully on his knee.  "Tell me what's happening.  Please."  Her voice shook, and the Doctor realized she had been afraid for him.  He squeezed Clara's hand comfortingly to let her know he truly wasn't hurt badly.

 

"I used to be involved with UNIT a long time ago.  Back before you were even born.  I never killed anyone, just pulled off heists.  That's how I met River, and we walked away together when we decided to settle down.  We wanted to set a good example for our child.  After River's death, the UNIT boss, Kate, contacted me periodically throughout the years, but I always turned the jobs down.  I'd lost almost the most important things they could use against me for leverage, but between Missy and my parents, if they really wanted me for a job, they could have made it happen.  The last time I heard from Kate was before you moved in, so I thought they weren't interested in me anymore."  The Doctor took the frozen peas off his face to look Clara in the eyes, and she winced at the swelling.  "Clara, they've still been watching me all this time, and they know all about you."

 

Clara nodded slowly as she processed his words.  "What do they want you for now?"

 

"Cybermen stole some weapons from UNIT.  They want me to recover them.  UNIT does less harm, typically taking out other gangs and trying to minimize collateral damage, so helping them could save people."

 

"OK, so how are we going to get them back?"

 

" _We_?"  The Doctor was flabbergasted.  "There is no 'we'.  There is me, and you are going to be somewhere safe while this happens."

 

Clara rolled her eyes.  "That's not what I signed up for when I agreed to marry you."

 

"You didn't sign up for this because you didn't agree to marry John Smith, their for UNIT.  You agreed to marry the Doctor, children's author.  You didn't know about any of this until today."  He looked away, unable to meet her eyes.

 

Clara leaned forward and cupped the Doctor's face in her hands, mindful of his injury.  "Two halves of the same person.  You told me a long time ago that the name you chose was a promise. What was the promise?"

 

"Never cruel or cowardly."

 

"And it sounds like even before you chose that name, you kept the promise, meaning you were the Doctor even before you were the Doctor.  That means we are in this together."  She leaned closer and kissed his cheek.  "Promise me you won't send me away."

 

"I promise."  He removed Clara's hands from his cheeks and squeezed them.  "I don't deserve you."

 

Clara smiled.  "We are exactly what the other deserves.  Now, how are we going to do this?"

 

"I've got a couple friends I think could help.  Even though I left that life behind, I still have some contacts.  People like me, that got into that life feeling they had no choice, but trying their best to do good anyway."

 

She nodded.  "Let's do this then."

 

The Doctor left her in their room and headed down to his study to make some phone calls.

 

* * *

 

 

Clara and the Doctor had been dating- was it really dating if they rarely left the house together was something Clara pondered but never asked- for about five months before the Doctor mustered up enough courage to ask her something important.

 

They'd had a nice evening together.  Clara babysat a couple neighborhood kids early in the day, and the Doctor did a reading and signing of his latest book at a local bookshop.  They prepared dinner together, and after the cleanup was done, the Doctor insisted the deserved a treat.  It was a warm August night, and ice cream sounded like a great choice.  They hands were clasped together, and the Doctor was smiling easily and telling jokes as they walked.  Clara was trying to steal licks from his cone, and after the first time she succeeded, the Doctor took to holding his dessert out of her reach.

 

"If you wanted coffee ice cream you should have ordered your own," the Doctor chided as he licked said flavor off his hand.

 

"I wanted chocolate chip, but a little coffee helps bring out the taste of the chocolate," Clara countered.  She held up her cone to him.  "Lick for a lick?"

 

He sighed but agreed, lowering his own cone to Clara's mouth, then sputtering indignantly when her ice cream came into contact with his nose.  Clara laughed, then rose up on her toes to kiss away the ice cream.  "Sometimes I think you just like to lick and kiss food off me," he pretended to grumble, even as his eyes sparkled.

 

Clara opened her mouth to retort, but the sight of the Doctor smiling and standing there in the starlight robbed her of her voice.  Her fingers left his and traced up his arm lightly, leaving goosebumps across his skin.  Their eyes locked, and she rose up on her toes again.  The Doctor bent closer and wrapped his free arm around her waist.  "Clara," he whispered breathlessly, Scottish accent rough.  She rested her hand on the back of his neck and tugged him closer, brushing her lips over his lightly, eyes closed.

 

"Clara?"

 

Her eyes snapped open, and she whirled around to face the man behind her.  "Danny, hi."  Clara tucked her right arm into the crook of the Doctor's.  She looked at her left hand and grimaced at the amount of melted ice cream running down it.  "How are you?"  She flashed the Doctor a grateful smile as he pressed some napkins into her hand.

 

"Pretty good.  How's your summer been?"

 

"Great.  Doing a lot of babysitting.  Not thinking about school.  Eating ice cream."

 

"Sounds like you've got the right idea," Danny smiled.  He stepped forward and held his hand out to the Doctor.  "Danny Pink.  I'm a classmate of Clara's."

 

The Doctor turned his hand to Danny, showing the melted ice cream on it.  "The Doctor.  It's probably better if I don't shake your hand."

 

At the mention of the Doctor's name, Danny's eyebrows rose and he glanced to Clara for confirmation.  She nodded once, tightening her grip on his arm before moving her attention back to her dessert.  Danny's smile grew.  "It's good to finally meet you.  I've heard a lot about you from Clara."

 

The Doctor looked slightly uneasy, not sure what she would have told Danny.  "All good things, I hope."  He felt his face heating up.

 

Danny nodded.  "Of course.  I doubt Clara would want you as her boyfriend if she didn't have nice things to say about you."

 

The Doctor looked at Clara in surprise, but before he could say anything, she interrupted.  "It was great to see you again, Danny, but we should probably head home now."

 

"See you at school in a few weeks, Clara.  Good to meet you, Doctor.  Have a good night."

 

"You too."  Clara tugged on the Doctor's arm to lead them home and she shot him a warning look not to say anything.  They finished their ice creams in silence, and the awkward tension evaporated when he took her hand again.

 

They were standing on the porch before Clara gave in to his silent questioning.  "Go ahead and say it," she sighed.

 

"I thought we agreed not to call each other boyfriend and girlfriend."  He opened the door and let her in first.

 

"We did, but it's easier to use that label for you in conversation."

 

"But boyfriend?"  He made a face.  "It sounds so juvenile."

 

She squeezed his hand.  "I tried partner, but most people assumed you were a woman, and it makes me sound slutty if I call you the guy that I'm sleeping with.  I know boyfriend isn't the right term, but until I have the right one, it's what I'm using."  Clara placed a gentle kiss on his lips.  "Is that OK?"

 

The Doctor nodded.  "Yeah, it's OK."  He moved his hands to her hips.  "Your room or mine tonight?"

 

"Yours.  It's way too hot in mine."  She moaned when he pressed a kiss to her throat.  "Bed now," Clara commanded, tugging his shirt out of the waistband of his pants.

 

"Or," he paused to blow lightly on her ear.  "We could stay down here."

 

Clara shivered at the sensation and paused in unbuttoning his shirt.  "We are not having sex on the couch," she said firmly, pushing the fabric off his body.

 

"That's not what you said last week," he pointed out, hand sliding up Clara's skirt to touch her panties.  They both groaned at how wet she already was.

 

"And have you seen how red my face gets now whenever someone sits there?"

 

The Doctor kissed her again and relented.  He lifted Clara into his arms and carried her up the stairs.  They both sighed happily when the cool air from the bedroom air conditioner hit their skin.

 

"It's so much warmer this summer than I remember it being last year," Clara complained as the Doctor resumed marking her neck.  "But last summer I think I was here less."

 

He made a noise of agreement then pulled away and smirked at Clara's protest.  The Doctor pecked her lips lightly.  "Before we get, ah, occupied for the night, I want to ask you something, Clara."

 

She nodded and motioned for him to continue.  "What's up?"

 

The Doctor scratched the back of his neck nervously.  "I was wondering if you wanted to move in with me?"

 

Clara blinked.  "Doctor, we already live together."  She looked at him oddly.

 

He blushed.  "No, Clara, I meant we move your things in here and share this space too.  Only if you want to," he added quickly.  "If you're not interested we don't have to do that and forget I mentioned it."

 

A smile spread across Clara's face, and she pulled the Doctor in for a kiss.  "Yes," she said simply when they parted.

 

His face lit up, and he felt a huge weight off his shoulders.  "Seriously?"

 

"Seriously.  Saves us the trouble of trading off where we spend the night, and your room is more comfortable anyway."  Clara squealed when the Doctor lifted her in the air and spun around before they crashed on top of the bed, kissing each other breathless.

 

* * *

 

 

Clara knocked on the door to the Doctor's study and opened it when he bid her to enter.  "Hey, how'd it go with your contacts?"

 

The Doctor's hands fluttered in a gesture Clara had come to interpret as good but not great.  "Vast, Jenny, and Strax are on board.  Between the four- sorry five," he corrected at the sharp look he earned from Clara.  "Five of us, we shouldn't have any problems.  We're going over there tomorrow to discuss strategy.  If we're lucky we can action the plan tomorrow too."  He gently pulled Clara to sit in his lap.  "I know you like to be in control, but you need to listen to what I tell you to do.  No stupid moves and no playing the hero.  Deal?"

 

"You make it sound like I'm a control freak," Clara complained.  He said nothing, and she smacked his chest lightly.  "I am not a control freak!"

 

The Doctor's lips twisted.  "Yes ma'am."

 

She rolled her eyes at him.  "And it's a deal as long as you don't break your promise not to send me away."

 

The Doctor frowned at that but agreed.  "We have a deal then."


	8. Chapter Eight

It took some convincing, but the Doctor was able to persuade Vastra, Jenny, and Strax that Clara could be an asset to their rag-tag team.  More specifically, Clara lost her temper when the Doctor's half-hearted attempts failed, and she showed him up by showing off her hacking skills while simultaneously telling him off.  Jenny and Vastra were impressed by her skill and spirit, and Strax determined it would be an honor to serve with her.  Now a few days later, the Doctor was sitting in the back of a van, face thunderous, as they all dressed in preparation of the plan.  Strax was regaling Clara with stories of other work they've done, and Jenny was quietly correcting some of the details so only Clara could hear.

 

"She certainly is a spunky young woman," Vastra said conversationally as she slid into the seat next to the Doctor.  "But I suppose she would have to be, to be a good match for you."

 

"What do you want, Vastra?" he asked, annoyed that his brooding was being interrupted.

 

"Why do you look so unhappy that we've accepted Clara?  I thought you would be happy your fiancee and your oldest friends are getting along."

 

"I didn't want to be involved in this life anymore.  I certainly don't want it for her either."

 

Vastra looked at him sideways.  "Doctor, can I give you some advice?"

 

"No, but I'm sure you're going to do it anyway."  He turned to face her fully.

 

"You can't always get what you want.  But if you try sometimes, you might find that you get what you need."

 

The Doctor opened and closed his mouth a few times before he found his voice.  "That's your advice?  A quote from a Rolling Stones song?"

 

Vastra smiled mischievously.  "Of course not.  You've just always been fun to rile up.  But the point still stands.  Jenny and I quit that lifestyle, but we all work as private investigators.  The work can be dangerous, but we do it together because we have each other's backs, and that's what's important in any partnership, marriage or not.  Clara is showing you that you can trust her by helping you.  Let her in; she's exactly what you need."

 

The Doctor said nothing for several long moments, and Vastra thought he was shutting her out.  She turned to watch Jenny and Clara, and he finally spoke again in a low whisper.  "But what if I'm not what she needs?"

 

Vastra watched him from the corner of her eye.  He was hunched forward in his seat, and his expression was forlorn.  His gaze flitted around the van, and his eyes only lit up when they landed on Clara.  Clara was looking back at him, and she flashed him a wide grin that he hesitantly returned.  Vastra looked back and forth between them and hid her own smile behind her hand.  "Trust me, Doctor.  You are exactly what she needs too."  She raised her voice and addressed everyone.  "Right!  Does everyone know what their part of the plan is?"

 

Everyone nodded, and Clara spoke first.  "I'm going to disable the security system so you can get in unseen, and then I'll be monitoring the situation from here."  She gave the Doctor a glare at hiving to stay in the van, but she knew she couldn't do her part running with them.  "The Doctor will have a camera and earpiece so I see and hear what he does."

 

"Then I will cause a distraction to lure the Cybermen away so I can melt them with acid," Strax continued.

 

Clara's eyes widened.  "That last part?"

 

"I will not melt them with acid," Strax amended.  "Old habits," he said by way of explanation.

 

Clara opened her mouth to speak again, but the Doctor cut her off.  "Once the Cybermen are distracted, the rest of us will get in, take the weapons, and get out.  Do not engage the enemy unless absolutely necessary, clear?"  When everyone nodded, he added, "Let's all get into position."

 

Strax left the van while Clara disabled the security system.  She had already determined through schematics where the best place would be for the distraction, and Strax headed for the cover near there.  Clara turned around in her seat to watch the Doctor put on the earpiece and camera.  He looked deep in thought, like he was having a bit of an internal disagreement.  He turned the camera on, and as soon as Clara was sure the picture was coming in clearly on her laptop, she moved closer to him.  "Doctor?"

 

He looked up, startled, and gave her an apologetic smile.  "Listen, there's something I want you to know, in case anything goes wrong."

 

Clara furrowed her brow.  "Okay," she said slowly.  "What is it?"

 

The Doctor steeled himself, opened his mouth, and then changed his mind.  Cursing himself for his cowardice, he changed tactics and pulled Clara into his arms.  He pushed her hair away from her face and leaned in to capture her lips with his.  His arms tightened around her, and he kissed her as if his very life depending on snogging Clara within an inch of her own.  When he finally pulled away, Clara blinked at him, dazed and speechless.  He slowly extricated himself from her and offered her a tentative smile.  "Don't be lasagna," he advised her before stepping out of the van to join Vastra and Jenny.

 

They both frowned at his words.  Don't be lasagna?  What the hell does that mean?

 

Clara regained her ability to speak and went to the van door.  "Wait!"  She grabbed the Doctor's hand and tugged so he was in front of her.  Clara placed a kiss on his cheek.  "Be safe, never give up, and always be amazing."  She released his hand and addressed the group.  "Good luck."

 

"You too."  Vastra handed Clara the keys to the van, then shut the door, securing her inside.  Jenny offered Vastra a pair of binoculars.  "Thank you, my love."

 

The Doctor, Vastra, and Jenny peered around the van.  They could see Strax crouched down by a bush, waiting for his signal.

 

"Okay, Clara, we're all ready.  Give Strax the go ahead," the Doctor said into the microphone.

 

Clara fumbled the keys before sticking them in the ignition.  She turned the key just enough for lights and accessories to work, then flashed the high beams at Strax the way they had practiced.  Everyone watched Strax pull a small cannister out of his pocket and lob it at the building.  It flashed brightly and gave a loud bang before smoke started billowing out of it.  The doors opened and dozens of Cyberman rushed out.

 

"Surrender for the glory of the Sontaran Empire!" Strax bellowed.  Then he turned and ran in the opposite direction of the van, the Cyberman giving chase.

 

"Now's our chance."  The Doctor ran towards the building, and Vastra and Jenny followed.  They carefully jogged the same path Strax had taken, only they went inside the first door they passed.  The sounds of the Cybermen yelling and Strax's manic laughter reached their ears.  "So much for not engaging the enemy," the Doctor sighed.

 

"Strax will be fine," Jenny assured him.  "He's frequently the distraction in our work.  I think he enjoys seeing how ridiculous he can be."

 

They came to a fork in the corridor.  "Clara, which way?" he asked.

 

"Take the one on the right, then go up the first set of stairs," came the reply.

 

With Clara's directions, the group of three easily reached the room the weapons were held in.  Jenny and Vastra started loading bags while the Doctor walked around frowning.

 

"Doctor?  What's the matter?" Vastra questioned.

 

"Something doesn't feel right.  It's almost too easy."

 

"What do you mean?" Jenny asked.

 

"We didn't run into anyone in the building," he answered.

 

"Because they're all following Strax," Vastra pointed out.

 

"Doesn't that strike you as odd?  Why send three dozen troops after one distraction?"  They all exchanged uneasy looked, and the Doctor was aware of frantic typing through his earpiece.

 

"Doctor!"  Clara sounded scared.  "It's a trap, you need to get out of there right now!"

 

They all moved toward the exit, but the automatic doors slid shut.  Jenny and Vastra tried to pry them open, but to no avail.

 

"Dammit!  Clara, the doors closed.  We're trapped in here," the Doctor said.  "There's a window if need be, but we're pretty high up."

 

"Maybe Clara can manually open the doors?" Jenny suggested.

 

"I'm trying, but it's not working!"  The Doctor shook his head to relay it was a no-go.  "But listen, you guys have another problem.  There's a fire downstairs now."

 

"What do you mean there's a fire?"  He ran to the window to see a thick cloud of smoke rising.

 

"I mean the building is on fire!" Clara screeched, punching the keys on her computer harder.  "I found a file that the Cybermen were planning on taking those weapons, going into hiding for a while, and destroying their HQ so UNIT would think they're gone.  Then after everyone assumed they were dead, the Cybermen were going to kill UNIT and pretty much take over the city.  More typing, then "Yes!  I triggered the fire suppression system!"

 

The Doctor quickly grabbed Vastra and Jenny and pushed him to take cover under the large table in the center of the room.  Seconds later, the sprinklers engaged and doused the room in water.  "It's not much, but it's some shelter," the Doctor explained.

 

The sprinklers only needed to stay on for a few minutes before they got the fire under control.  When the only sound was a light dropping, the Doctor left the shelter and stood to survey the damage.

 

"Sorry.  Guess I didn't think that part through," Clara apologized.

 

"Don't be sorry.  You're doing great," the Doctor murmured as he crossed the room.  "Can you try the doors again?"  Clara agreed, and he turned away from the door when he heard it opening.  He lifted one of the weapons bags.  "Now we just need to get out of here."  He saw Jenny and Vastra staring at something behind him.  "What?"

 

"Uh, Doctor?"  Vastra shifted slightly so she was in front of Jenny.

 

He spun around to see three Cybermen behind him.  Clara gasped in his ear and yelled his name.  "Okay, so first we need to escape th is, and then we can go."

 

One of the Cybermen addressed the team.  "Identify yourselves."  He initiated a scan on them.

 

The Doctor gave them a cocky grin.  "Perhaps you've heard of me.  I have many names.  John Smith.  Bringer of Darkness.  The Oncoming Storm.  But mostly I go by The Doctor."

 

A second Cyberman addressed them.  "Impossible.  John Smith is dead."  However, despite the assertion, the Cybermen looked ill at ease.

 

"Is it?" he challenged.  The Doctor turned to the first Cyberman.  "What are the results of the scan?"

 

"The Doctor is John Smith."

 

"And if there's one thing your file on me should say, if there's one thing it should warn about it if you value your lives, the one thing you should never do is let me talk."  The Doctor gestured wildly and began to slowly move around the room, taking note that all the Cybermen's weapons were trained on him.  "Because while I'm talking and you're listening to me talk, I'm also scheming up ways to get out of this situation.  So never, ever let me talk.  Now!"  He suddenly dropped to the floor.  The Cybermen did not have time to react before Jenny and Vastra aimed one of the weapons at the wall and fired.  The blast made the wall collapse, trapping the Cybermen underneath.

 

The Doctor stood up and brushed himself off.  "Nice work.  But we still have to move quickly."

 

Vastra and Jenny grinned at each other, and the three took off towards the stairs.

 

"Clara, we're on our way out," the Doctor said.

 

 

"Clara?"  Still nothing.  "Clara!"  They exchanged worried glances as they ran through the corridors.  "Why isn't she answering?"

 

"I'm sure she's fine," Vastra said optimistically.  "May the water broke the headset."

 

"I heard her before.  When the Cybermen appeared.  I thought she cried out because we were trapped but what if the ones chasing Strax got her?"

 

"Stay calm," Jenny ordered.  "We'll go to the van and meet Strax.  If Clara's gone, we'll get her back."

 

The Doctor nodded and followed Vastra and Jenny.  They opened the door and ran outside, skidding to a stop when they saw all the Cybermen just beyond the door.

 

"We're outnumbered!" Jenny yelled as they closed in on the group.  "How are we going to get out of here?"

 

A small cannister fell down and landed near the Doctor.  "Close your eyes and plug your ears!"  Even through his eyelids the Doctor saw the flash, but at least the bang was muted.  As the cannister began smoking, he opened his eyes and saw Vastra and Jenny do the same.  Together they broke free from the stunned Cyberman.

 

"The van is gone!"  Jenny looked over her shoulder to see the Doctor pale.

 

"It doesn't mean they have her," Vastra added.

 

"Where else could she be?" the Doctor yelled in exasperation.

 

Just as they reached the fence surrounding the compound, a large black van pulled up, and the back door was thrown open.

 

"Need a lift?"  Clara smiled brightly from the door.  She let out a surprised yelp when the Doctor grabbed her shoulders and crashed their lips together.

 

"I thought the Cybermen got you," he explained after pulling back.

 

"Doctor, you have plenty of time to kiss her after you get in the van," Vastra admonished, handing Strax the weapons.

 

He blushed and smiled sheepishly.  Clara moved out of the way so everyone else could board the van.  The Doctor climbed in last and was about to close the door when a pain shot through his leg.  He cried out and collapsed on the floor, clutching his leg.  Clara was instantly at his side.  He pulled his hand off his leg just long enough to show her it was stained red.

 

Vastra quickly shut the door.  "Strax, he's been shot!  Jenny get us out of here quickly!"

 

Jenny hopped in the driver's seat and floored it as Strax moved closer to examine the wound.  "Which hospital should we go to?"

 

"No hospital," the Doctor gritted out between his teeth.  "Take me to UNIT."  He hissed as Strax put pressure on his leg.  "Who shot me?"

 

"One of the Cybermen from upstairs.   They must have gotten free because he was leaning out the window," Vastra answered.

 

The Doctor muttered some curses under his breath, then turned to Clara.  Her eyes were wide and rapidly filling with tears.  He held out a hand, and she held it between both of hers.  "Stop it with the eyes.  How do you do that anyway?  It's like they inflate."  When Clara chuckled weakly, he squeezed her hand.  "Don't cry.  Everything's going to be fine."

 

"Please don't go."

 

"Don't be afraid, Clara," he said softly.  "I-"

 

The rest of the sentence was drowned out by the van doors opening, and Jack Harkness and Mickey Smith quickly moved the Doctor to a stretcher.  Strax filled them in on the Doctor's condition and tried to persuade them to let Clara accompany them, but they refused.

 

"It's okay, Strax," Clara said.  "You're useful to them as a nurse.  Please, stay with him and update me when there's news."  Strax trotted off after the Doctor, and Vastra and Jenny left to deliver the weapons to Kate, leaving Clara alone.  Once she was certain no one could see her, she slid to the ground, wrapped her arms around her knees, and cried.  While she sat there, she did something she hadn't since before her mother died- prayed.  Let him be alright.  Please God, just let him be alright.  "Please don't take him away," she whispered.

 

"Clara Oswald?" a soft voice asked.

 

She snapped her head up.  A young woman with dark hair, glasses, and the longest scarf Clara had ever seen stood there.  "Yes?"

 

"I'm Osgood.  I'm going to be taking care of you," she said kindly.  "Is there anything you need?"

 

To know the Doctor is alive.  Clara bit her lip and stood up, wiping her face on her hands.  "Has there been any news?"

 

Osgood shook her head.  "Not yet, it's still too early.  But Doctor Jones is a miracle worker.  He's in good hands."  She led Clara inside and sat her down in a little waiting room.  "I'll be right back.  I'm going to get you some tea and a snack."

 

Clara slumped down in her chair and waited.  She heard a door open, and Strax's voice filtered through.

 

"It is imperative that I deliver this message to Miss Clara Oswald!"

 

She stood up and made her way to the door.  "Strax!  I'm here.  What message?"

 

"From the Doctor.  He refused to allow the procedure to begin without you receiving it first."

 

"Hurry up then, so he can have the operation.  Please," she added as an afterthought.

 

"Very well.  The message is: Tell Clara olive juice."

 

"Olive juice?" she repeated in confusion.

 

"Olive juice," Strax confirmed.  "Maybe he wants it instead of morphine.  Now, I must return to the patient."  He went back through the door, closing it tightly behind himself.

 

Clara pondered the message as she sat down.  Olive juice?  Why did he keep giving her messages involving food?  Olive juice.  Comes from olives, obviously.  Maybe he thinks that would speed up his recovery?  Or maybe he wants to take a trip to an olive grove after he's better?  Clara frowned and continued to think.  Maybe he just said nonsense because he was in a lot of pain and needed a lot of morphine. 

 

Clara sat up straighter.  The morphine!  She quickly grabbed a pen and paper and scribbled a note.  "Osgood!" she called, spotting the woman.

 

"Clara, what's wrong?"  She set the teacup and cookies down on an empty chair.

 

"Can you make sure the Doctor gets this message?  Have someone read it to him."  She handed the note to Osgood.

 

Osgood nodded and pulled out her phone.  "Mickey, I need you to come out here.  "I've got something for the Doctor."  She stood by the door and passed the paper to Mickey, who obviously ran from where he had been waiting.  "Make sure someone reads it to him."

 

Clara shifted in her seat, prepared now to only be interrupted with status updates.  She just hoped that the Doctor would receive her message and know she understood.

 

Because of course he didn't actually mean to say olive juice.  That was the morphine kicking in and making him slur his words.  There was only one thing he wanted Clara to know in case he didn't make it.  Words he had never said to her before.  I love you.

 

Naturally the first time he says it is not quite to her and the message gets confused, and it's mostly because he's afraid he might die.  Clara just hopes she'll be able to give her response a second time in person.  I love you too.


	9. Chapter Nine

Several hours passed before Clara was updated on the Doctor's status.  In that time, Vastra and Jenny returned from Kate Lethbridge-Stewart's office and alternated between sitting with her and pestering Jack for information every time he walked by.  Clara considered telling Amy and Rory what happened, but in the end she chickened out and sent a text that something came up, and no she wasn't sure when they would be home.  Amy texted her back to be safe.  The one call Clara did make was to Missy, and she was intentionally vague on the details.  The Doctor was in emergency surgery for a serious injury, and no visitors were permitted yet.  Clara took a deep breath to steady herself and muffled a sob.

 

"Clara!"  Missy had tried to get her attention several times, finally losing her patience and yelling into the phone.  When all she heard for a few seconds was a snuffle, she continued.  "I know no one is allowed to see him, but do you want me to go to UNIT to stay with you while you wait?"

 

Clara hesitated.  "I'm not sure.  Wait, how do you know where we are?"

 

Missy tutted.  "Honestly.  I do know my brother better than you both give me credit for."  The sound of keys jingling reached Clara's ears.  "I'll be there as soon as I can."  The call disconnected before Clara could disagree with her.

 

Clara stared blankly at her phone in one hand and worried at the fingernails of the other with her teeth.  Why was this taking so long?  She understood that they needed to stabilize the Doctor and make sure he would survive the procedure, but god this was so nerve-wracking!  She flexed her fingers before stashing her phone in her pocket and getting up to pace the room.  Jenny moved to stand up, but Vastra's hand on her arm gave her pause.  Vastra nodded to a woman approaching Clara, and Jenny sank back down into her chair.

 

Missy blocked Clara's path and wrapped her arms around the younger woman.  "Clara, Clara, Clara, what happened?" she asked in a soothing voice.

 

The muffled response came from her shoulder.  "We were doing a job, and he was shot when we were leaving…"  Clara lifted her head suddenly and spun around to face Vastra, a wide-eyed look of horror on her face.  "If I hadn't let him kiss me, we would have all been in the van with the door shut."

 

"It's not your fault, Clara.  The Doctor had been terrified something happened to you.  It's only natural he expressed the relief that you were safe."

 

"But-"

 

"No buts.  Even if he closed the door in time, the bullet still could have pierced the vehicle, and we would still be here.  It's not your fault."

 

Clara nodded and turned back to Missy.  "Has this ever happened before?"

 

She shook her head.  "Most of his on-the-job injuries were mild.  Sprained ankle, broken fingers, that sort of thing.  He's strong, he'll pull through."

 

"I know why he didn't want to do this job anymore," Clara muttered.  "I can't handle this."

 

"You're strong too."  Missy squeezed her shoulders.  "You've got this."

 

The door to the infirmary corridors opened, and a serious-looking woman and Mickey stepped out.  "Clara Oswald?" the woman asked.

 

She gripped Missy's hand tightly, heart pounding.  "Right here."  Clara took a few steps forward, half-dragging the older woman with her.  "How's the Doctor?"

 

She blinked, initially surprised at the obvious age gap between her patient and his fiancee, before recovering.  "I'm Doctor Jones."  She smiled kindly at Clara's concern.  "He's doing well.  The bullet only nicked him, and we stopped the bleeding; there shouldn't be anything more permanent than a scar.  He should stay off his leg for a few days, but no lasting damage."  Martha lowered her voice.  "However…"

 

Clara felt like the vice grip on her heart loosened, and she breathed easier.  He was going to be fine.  Thank God.  She frowned.  "However?"

 

"Miss Oswald, are you aware you're marrying an infuriatingly stubborn man?"

 

Missy barked out a laugh.  "That's an understatement.  But if anyone is a match for my brother's mulishness, it's Clara dear."

 

"What's he doing now?"

 

"Refusing to take his painkillers."  There was no mistaking the disapproval in Martha's voice.  "He says he won't have any more until he sees you."

 

"I'm not even surprised.  I'll talk some sense into him," Clara promised.  She turned to the others.  "I'll be back soon."

 

"Give him hell, Clara," Vastra advised.  "He'll always need it."

 

Martha led her down a couple corridors.  They could already hear the Doctor arguing with Strax.  "Go on in," Martha said quietly, opening the door.

 

"Doctor, you need to rest," Strax said wearily.

 

"No, I need to get out of this room and see Clara.  Now where are my clothes?"  The Doctor looked around in agitation as he looked for something to wear other than the light fabric gown.

 

Clara stepped in and motioned for Strax to leave them alone.  He shut the door softly, and she observed the Doctor.  He hadn't noticed her presence yet, too occupied with rummaging through the room for his missing clothes.  The Doctor successfully located the outfit he had been wearing and tossed the clothes on the nearest bed, his back to her.  His trousers slid to the floor, and Clara decided to make herself known when he cautiously bent to pick them up.  She wolf-whistled, grinning smugly and winking when the Doctor tensed and turned around.  Spotting Clara, he relaxed again.

 

"See something you like?" he teased, waggling his eyebrows.

 

"Plenty, but I don't like that you're out of bed and trying to dress yourself."  Clara stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him.  She gently propelled him backwards, and when the backs of his knees bumped the bed, her hands moved to his shoulders and coxed him into sitting.  The Doctor patted the empty space beside him, and Clara climbed in next to him.  "How are you feeling?"

 

He pulled Clara against his chest and buried his face against her neck, breathing hard.  "I'm okay."  He made a needy noise in the back of his throat when her fingers threaded into his hair.

 

"Lie back," she whispered, carefully guiding the Doctor back to the pillow.  Clara turned him on his side and settled next to him on the narrow bed.  Her lips touched his forehead, and she peppered his face with kisses.

 

"I don't want to stay here.  Can we go home now?"  The Doctor's grumbling was less effective when he kept letting out happy sighs from the kisses.

 

"Not yet.  Doctor Jones says you need another dose of painkillers."  Clara cut off the impending argument by kissing him deeply.  His arms tightened around her, and he rolled them slightly to be on top.  She moaned when he rocked his hips against hers, arousal evident through the thin gown, and broke the kiss.  "You can't seriously be up for that right now," Clara panted.

 

"Clara, my Clara, I think you'll find I have no trouble being up-" he punctuated by slowly grinding against her.  "-for that when you're around."  He flicked his tongue against her earlobe before switching his attention to her neck, chuckling when Clara shuddered underneath him.

 

"Honestly, how are you not in agony right now?" Clara wondered.  "You were shot, and the drugs keeping you numb wore off."

 

The Doctor stopped making love bites and pulled back to look in Clara's eyes.  "Adrenaline.  When I came to, I wanted nothing more than to find you, and Strax and Martha wouldn't let me leave."  He scowled and shifted off of Clara.  "But now that I know you're safe and the adrenaline is wearing off, I'm starting to feel a little pain."

 

Clara rolled her eyes.  The Doctor complained about minor annoyances all the time, but he never complained about the big things, not wanting to worry her.  If he was admitting to a little pain, then it must actually be excruciating.  "I'm going to do what I can to get you out of here, but first I need to let everyone else know you're okay."  She grabbed a glass of water and two pills that were on a table next to the bed along with her love note.  "How about you take these and rest a little?  I'll be back soon to bust you out."

 

The Doctor nodded and quickly took the pills, then relaxed against the pillow.  Clara picked up a blanket from one of the other beds and carefully draped it over him, offering comfort and affording more modesty than the gown.  He smiled gratefully and sighed in contentment when Clara kissed his forehead.  His hands cupped her face, and he pulled her in for another kiss.  "I love you, Clara Oswald," he murmured against her lips.

 

"I love you too."  She planted one last kiss on him before straightening up.  Clara slipped out of the room and bumped into Missy.

 

"How is he?"

 

Clara sighed in relief.  "He's fine.  A little sore, so I told him to rest while I talk to Doctor Jones.  Are you going to pop in to see him?"

 

"Just for a moment.  If he gets too agitated I'll go."  Missy watched Clara approach Martha, then she opened the door and quietly let herself in.

 

The Doctor was still in the bed, but he had propped himself up into a sitting position, wriggling to presumably relieve some pressure on his leg.  Clara's note was now in his lap, and he punched the air, obviously excited.  Missy took in the love-struck smile on his face and shook her head before speaking.

 

"Don't tell me you're surprised to learn she loves you."

 

He sucked in a breath in surprise and turned to the door.  "What are you doing here?"  He pulled the blanket a little higher on his body.

 

Missy gave his shoulder an affectionate pat and sat on the bed opposite his, crossing her legs primly.  "Clara called when they were still working on you.  She pulled a compact mirror and a tube of lipstick out of her pocket and applied a new layer, watching her brother surreptitiously.  "She wanted me to know, in case you gave up fighting, and I am here for moral support for her."

 

"And Kate just let you waltz in here?  After what you did the last time you were here?"  He raised an eyebrow skeptically.

 

The smile he received in return was cruel.  "She tried to stop me at the door, but I made it clear that nothing would keep me from my brother and future sister-in-law."  Missy gave a nonchalant shrug.  "She saw things my way."

 

The Doctor watched her for a moment, suppressing a shiver as he imagined his sister going against Kate.  "Well, thanks for keeping Clara company.  She doesn't like to admit it, but sometimes she needs someone to look out for her."

 

"You're both alike that way.  Feel better."  Missy rose to leave.  "Oh, and Doctor?"

 

"Hmm?"

 

Missy's eyes flashed dangerously, and she slapped his cheek.  The sound echoed in the little room.  He cradled his face in his hand, and his eyes widened when Missy spoke in a low tone.  "Don't you ever do anything like that again.  You risked both of your lives for something stupid."

 

"I know that," he hissed back angrily.  "I didn't even want her to get involved, but Clara Oswald is every bit as stubborn as I am.  But I also know it would have been harder to do the job without her, and I could be on a slab in a morgue instead of in this bed.  So no, I didn't want her to deal with the things she had to, but at the end of the day, I'm glad for her help."

 

Missy scoffed.  "Don't get used to this kind of life again.  Remember who had to help you escape the first time."

 

"It was one job because Clara was threatened.  I'm going to have a little chat with Kate before I leave to make sure everyone understands that Clara is under my protection.  She will not be a pawn in a chess match, and UNIT is to leave us alone."

 

They regarded each other silently, and then Missy smiled and nodded.  "Just making sure your priorities are in the right order, Doctor.  And if they don't back off, I can help you."  The sound of laughter filtered into the room.  "That's my cue.  Toodles!"  Missy opened the door for Clara and Martha.  She pulled Clara close and whispered, "He chose well with you.  Look after him."  Absurdly, Missy then kissed her nose and took her leave.

 

Clara turned to the Doctor in bewilderment.  "She's bananas," he replied to the unasked question, and Clara nodded in concession.

 

Martha cleared her throat.  "Doctor, this goes against my better judgment, but to keep my sanity, I'm releasing you to Miss Oswald's care.  I think if we try to keep you here any longer you'll just look for ways to escape.  She's got instructions on how often to change your bandage and give you painkillers.  Part of letting you leave now is an agreement that I will be making house calls to make sure you're healing properly."

 

"Deal.  Thanks for everything, Martha," the Doctor said sincerely.

 

"You're only saying that because you haven't seen the instructions yet," Martha teased as she exited to give him privacy to change.

 

Clara held up his trousers.  "I'll help you."  She kneeled beside the bed, and the Doctor carefully stepped into his blood-stained clothes, hands on Clara's shoulders to help him balance.  She stood up, tugging the fabric up his legs, mindful of the bandage.  "I don't think we're going to be able to salvage these, but at least it's good enough to get you home."  She slowly zipped and buttoned him up and reached around to give his rear a playful squeeze before bending again to help him with his shoes.

 

The Doctor quickly tugged on his sweater and held his arm out to Clara.  "Ready?"  For the first time he noticed a pair of crutches propped up near the door.  "Clara, no."

 

"Doctor," she used her best teacher voice on him.  "The crutches are a compromise.  Doctor Jones wanted you to leave in a wheelchair, but I knew you wouldn't agree to that."  She brought them closer.  "Please, Doctor?"

 

He exhaled noisily and stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets, the right one curling around Clara's note.  "Fine.  What else is on that blasted list?"

 

She skimmed it quickly.  "No driving, keeping your leg elevated, no swimming…"  Clara quirked an eyebrow.  "…certain sexual positions."

 

The Doctor snagged the list and read it thoughtfully.  "We should pick up a copy of the _Kama Sutra_ on the way home.  I've never heard of some of these, and we might need to try them."

 

Clara's face flushed in equal parts embarrassment and excitement.  "Later.  Don't forget Vastra is our ride back to the TARDIS."  She held out the crutches.

 

He made a face.  "Yeah, that might be awkward."  The Doctor traded the list for the crutches.  "I just need to talk to Kate, and then we can go."  Clara held the door open, and he pressed a kiss to her cheek as he passed, silently vowing to never get involved with UNIT again after this.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor is on the road to recovery, and he and Clara finally get around to starting their wedding planning. Oh, and smut.

"This is endless," The Doctor moaned, leaning forward to rest his head on top of the table.

 

The incident with the Cybermen happened a little over six weeks ago.  The Doctor had spent the first few days after heavily drugged to cope with the pain, and Martha Jones made frequent visits to the house to make sure Clara could properly care for him.  She always came alone, which Clara appreciated, not in the mood to mix it up with anyone else from UNIT any time soon.

 

"Hush, this is your doing," Clara reminded him.

 

"How is this my fault?"

 

"You wanted to get married for real.  And you wanted to veto my wedding ideas, so now you're stuck helping."

 

The dining room table was covered in paper.  Clara had spread out a calendar, several bridal magazines, notebooks, and color-coded sticky notes on the tabletop.  She gently tapped the Doctor's knuckles with a pencil to keep him from doodling on his pad of paper.  "How's that guest list coming along?"

 

The Doctor sat up again and flipped the pad around so Clara could see.  "Your dad, your gran, Amy and Rory, Missy, Vastra and Jenny, Strax, Danny, and Linda."

 

She looked at the pad in confusion.  "I don't see Linda's name.  Not that I'm complaining, mind you."

 

He pointed at the sketch of an ugly fire-breathing dragon.  "That's her.  But someone wouldn't let me finish.  How's whatever you're working on going?"

 

"Setting a date.  Is there any reason you don't want to get married on April 14th?"

 

"Historically, the Titanic hit the iceberg that day.  Seems like bad luck."

 

Clara rolled her eyes at him.  "April 21st?"

 

He thought a moment.  "Should be good."  He watched her circle the date in red and smiled.  "OK, what do we have sorted and what's left?  We've got the venue.  What else?"

 

"I like that you're referring to the backyard as a venue," Clara remarked dryly.  She looked over her checklist.  "Things that are sorted: my dress, your suit, we hired Amy as the photographer, most of the music, guest list, invitations are picked but not made out yet, and the rings."  They had picked out the rings last week, and Clara was thrilled with their choices.  The rings themselves were yellow gold, simple from the outside.  But the engravings were special.  Clara chose to have the Doctor's ring engraved with 'A promise of love beyond the limits of time'.  There was a mishap reading the Doctor's handwriting, so Clara's ring read 'I love you with all my hearts.'  The jeweler offered to fix it when he saw how upset the Doctor was, but Clara wanted to keep it.  Something about the Doctor having so much love for her it was like he had two hearts anyway.

 

Clara continued, "Things that are left: choosing the song for our first dance, food, cake, flowers- yes we're having flowers," she interrupted when he scowled.  "We're going to need to rent some chairs and tables and maybe a tent too in case it rains.  Oh, and find someone to perform the ceremony.  "

 

The Doctor pulled Clara's list closer and looked at it.  "You know…"

 

"If you suggest that I take any of these things off the list to save them for my next wedding, I will be furious," she said in a low tone.

 

"That's not what I was going to say at all," he blustered.  The Doctor reached for Clara's hand and laced their fingers together.  "What I was going to say, before I was so rudely interrupted, is that we could save a lot of time and money if we just eloped instead.  His leg was still healing, so he wasn't able to kneel.  The Doctor made do by crouching down, and he looked into Clara's eyes earnestly.  "Clara Oswald, will you run away with me to get married next week?"

 

She looked from the Doctor to Amy and Rory in the doorway, pretending not to eavesdrop, back to the Doctor.  Clara leaned forward and kissed his cheek, smiling before giving her answer.  "No."

 

"No?" the Doctor looked crestfallen, and she reached out to gently cup his cheek.

 

"Doctor, I love you.  When I think about marrying you, I picture our friends and family supporting us with their presence.  They can't do that if we run away together, yeah?"  She rested her head on his shoulder.

 

"No, I suppose not."  His arms moved around her small frame to hold her close.  The Doctor was pensive for a moment.  "Can we get married by an Elvis impersonator?"  Clara pulled back in protest, and he winked at her.  "Just joking, Clara."

 

She lightly pushed at his chest.  "You are incorrigible."  Patting his shoulder gently, she changed the subject.  "Why don't you take a break?  Doctor Jones should be here soon to check your leg."

 

"Fine.  But!" He held up a finger between them.  "You need to take a break too or pick things I don't care about.  Like flowers."  The Doctor left his crutches by the table and moved to the doorway where Amy and Rory were still pretending not to eavesdrop.  Amy followed him to the living room.

 

"Ask her to elope again in a couple months when she's stressed out and feels like everything is out of control, she advised.  "You know how Clara hates not being in control."

 

"That makes two of us.  And I thought you weren't listening."

 

Amy shrugged.  "Hard not to notice when your best friend is asked if she wants to elope and she says no."

 

"Don't rub it in," the Doctor said sourly.

 

She watched him for a moment.  "Oh my god," she breathed.  "You're properly disappointed she said no.  You really did want to marry her next week.  Oh my god."

 

"Shush!  Not so loud."  He glanced back to Clara, but she and Rory were talking.  It didn't look like she heard Amy.  The Doctor gripped Amy's arm and led her outside.  "Yes, I want to marry her as soon as possible.  Waiting was all well and good until I was shot last month.  I'm not getting any younger waiting around.  Yes, I'm being old and selfish but I want as much time with my wife as possible before I die."

 

"Well you're not dying next week, right?"

 

"No, but the future is never written in stone."  He sat down on the front steps.  "Just forget about this, okay?  It's not fair to ask her to compromise the whole wedding.  She's already giving up whatever fancy venue she dreamed about as a little girl to do it here and the day is going to be hard enough without her mother for support.  I won't ask her to give up the rest of what she wants."

 

The sat in contemplative silence until Martha drove up and parked in front of the house.  Amy  squeezed his shoulder before going inside to give them privacy to chat.  Amy joined Clara and Rory in the dining room while the Doctor and Martha headed up the stairs for his check-up.  After a few minutes, Martha called for Clara to join them, and Amy waited until she heard the door shut to start digging through Clara's papers.

 

"What are you doing?" Rory asked.

 

"I just had a brilliant idea.  Here, write down these names and numbers."

 

Rory took down the contact information for the names on the Doctor's guest list.  "Are we throwing them a surprise party or something?"

 

"Something like that."  She pulled out her phone and took pictures of the things Clara had circled as things she probably wanted and which businesses to call.  Amy tore Rory's paper off Clara's pad and folded it haphazardly.  She had just stuffed it in her pocket when Clara entered the room again.  "Heeey…." she greeted awkwardly.

 

Clara side-eyed Amy for a moment before responding.  "Hey?"

 

"How's the Doctor's appointment going?" Rory interjected, hoping to distract Clara from Amy.

 

"Good.  Everything is healing up nicely, and he doesn't need the crutches anymore.  Let's be honest, he was only using them to humor me in the first place.  Still needs to be careful not to overdo it for a bit though."  Clara continued to watch Amy and Rory as they shifted nervously.  "Okay, what's going on with you guys?  You're behaving oddly."

 

The Doctor chose that moment to come around the corner, effectively attracting Clara's attention.  Their housemates breathed out in relief.

 

"And where do you think you're going?" she asked, fixing him with her best stern teacher glare.

 

"Work."  He pointed at the basement door.  "I just got an idea for a story, and I want to get it down."

 

"You're supposed to help plan the wedding, remember?"

 

The Doctor sighed and let his arms hand by his sides before stalking over the Clara.  He cupped her face in his hands and rested his forehead against hers.  "I agree with all of your decisions, boss." He kissed her firmly and quickly walked away.  "I'll be back up as soon as I'm done," he called over his shoulder.

 

Clara flopped back into her chair and made a face.  "You win this time," she told his retreating back, and he acknowledged her with a wave.

 

Amy sat down with Clara and helped her make a few more decisions by getting Clara to admit exactly what she envisioned when she pictured the wedding, and then helping scale it back to not bankrupt the couple.  Amy listened attentively, making mental notes of her best friend's likes and dislikes.  Eventually Clara decided she needed a break from planning too, and put everything away, just as the Doctor emerged from the basement.

 

"Your timing is impeccable," Clara teased.  "How's your story coming along?"

 

"Pretty good.  I got a rough draft done, and I emailed my editor.  He seemed to like the idea, so that's something."  The Doctor picked up the box Clara organized everything into.  "I'll bring this upstairs for you and then have a bath, I think.  Do you need anything?"

 

She shook her head.  "I'm just going to do some marking, and we'll have dinner later?"  She ruffled the Doctor's hair affectionately before moving away to grab her school bag.

 

"Sounds good."  He hoisted the box and climbed the stairs as Clara settled down at the table again, this time spreading out her students' tests in front of her.

 

* * *

 

 

"Clara!"  The Doctor's voice cut through the silence in the house an hour an a half later.

 

She groaned and rubbed her temples before calling back.  "Yeah?"

 

"I need you!"

 

Amy and Rory exchanged a look and snickered, and Clara glared at them.  "Real mature, guys."    She raised her voice again.  "I'm in the middle of grading papers.  Can it wait?"

 

"If it could wait, I wouldn't be calling for you," the Doctor growled.  "Now hurry up."

 

Clara stood up from her place in the dining room.  "Dear god, how much longer until he's all healed?"

 

"You signed on for this, Clara.  For better or worse and all that," Amy reminded her.

 

"Maybe he's just trying to con a sponge bath out of you," Rory suggested.

 

She gave her friends a rude gesture and paused at the bottom of the stairs.  "Do you need me to bring anything from downstairs?"

 

"No!  Just get up here.  Please?" he added, the word coming out as a whine. 

 

Well that was one way to get her attention.  Clara quickly ran up the stairs and skidded to a stop in front of their bedroom.  She opened the door and poked her head in.  No Doctor.  Hmm.  "Doctor, where are you?"

 

"In here."  The response came from their bathroom.  She opened the bathroom and found the Doctor laying in the bathtub, injured leg dangling over the side and attempting (and failing) to use his arms to push himself up.  A soaked paperback book laid on the bathroom floor.  He looked completely dejected, and Clara quickly clamped a hand over her mouth.  "Stop laughing!  This is serious!"

 

"Bit stuck?"  Clara teased, clearly enjoying seeing her fiance acting like a flipped-over turtle.  She closed the lid to the toilet and sat down to observe him.

 

"Shut up."  His words lacked their usual fire.  "Help?  Please?"

 

"In a minute," she said with a smirk.  "What happened?"

 

"What do you think happened, Clara?  I was taking a bath, and now I can't get myself out of the tub."  The Doctor sighed in disappointment.  "I've been stuck for an hour," he confided.

 

She grinned.  "Are you all wrinkled and pruny now?"

 

The Doctor looked at his fingers.  "Bit more than usual."

 

Clara finally took pity on how pathetic the Doctor looked and stood up to help him.  She glanced down at the book on the floor.  "Is that my copy of The Hobbit?"

 

"Yeah, sorry.  I'll get you a new one," he promised.

 

She squatted next to the tub and pressed a kiss to the top of his head then ran her fingers through his hair.  "Did you skip washing your hair?  It's dry."

 

"My hair's fine.  It doesn't need a wash."

 

"Beg to differ.  Lean forward a bit."  Clara unbuttoned her sleeve cuffs and pushed them up past her elbows.  For once the Doctor did not argue with her and did as he was told.  She turned on the showerhead and tested the temperature of the water before dousing the Doctor's head.  She turned the water back off and reached for the shampoo.  The Doctor watched Clara squeeze a generous dollop into her hand and rubbed it into a lather, the strawberry scent filling the air.  "Close your eyes."  She waited for the Doctor to obey before she worked the shampoo into his thick curls.  "Your hair's getting long," she commented idly. 

 

"Mmhmm."  He sighed happily as she lavished attention on him.  His toes curled as her nails scratched against his scalp lightly, and she smiled.  "Clara," he murmured contentedly.

 

Clara felt heat pool between her legs whenever he said her name like that.  Quiet, drawn out, rolling the 'r'.  She hurriedly rinsed the Doctor's hair and kneeled on the bathroom floor to kiss him hungrily, one hand gripping his shoulder and the other resting on the knee of his injured leg.  God, it had been so long since the last time they fucked.  It was before the Doctor was shot.  Six weeks, 4 days, 13 hours, and 47 minutes.  Not that Clara was counting.  Her tongue smoothly crossed into his mouth and slid across his.  She moaned lowly and the Doctor's hands grabbed for her, pulling her up against the side of the tub.  He broke the kiss and hissed when she leaned a little heavily on his leg.  "Sorry.  C'mon, let's get you out of the tub."  Clara stood up again and held her hands out for the Doctor to take.

 

The Doctor seized Clara's wrists, a wicked grin on his face.  Clara caught the look and tried to break his hold.

 

"Don't even think about it," she warned, planting her heels down.

 

"Too late."  He pulled and Clara ended up in his lap, water splashing over the side of the tub. 

 

Clara shrieked when she landed on top of the Doctor and got a mouthful of water.  She was quick to spit it back out at him.  The Doctor laughed even as Clara glared at him.  "You ass," she said, no real anger behind her words as she playfully smacked his chest.  She pushed her hair back and carefully climbed out of the tub.  "I think I'm going to leave you here now."

 

The Doctor stopped laughing.  "No, you can't do that."

 

She grinned and left the bathroom.  "I'm going to change and then I'm going downstairs to start dinner."  Clara stayed out of the Doctor's line of sight as she stripped off her wet clothes, tossing each article into the bathroom as it came off.

 

"Claaaarrrraaaaa," he whined, hands splashing around in the tub.  "Come on now."

 

She appeared in the doorway, naked and leaning against the frame.  Clara cocked an eyebrow as his eyes darkened with lust.  She held his gaze steady for a moment before speaking again.  "Maybe dinner can wait.  If I go over there, do you promise not to pull me in the tub again?"

 

"No," the Doctor replied honestly.  "But I do promise if you come over here I will spend the rest of the night making you scream."

 

"Deal."  She quickly crossed the room and they grabbed each other's wrists.  "Count of three?"  He nodded, and Clara began counting.  "One, two, three."  She grunted and pulled, the Doctor helping as much as he could, and she managed to get him into a standing position, one leg in the tub and one out.  She wrapped an arm around his waist and supported him as his knees buckled.  "I've got you."  Clara retrieved the Doctor's towel and dried him off carefully.  Hand in hand, she led him back to their bedroom and directed him to sit down on their bed.  "Now what was that about making me scream?"  She leaned over him and captured his lips in another kiss.

 

The Doctor flipped their positions and pinned Clara to the bed with a sharp grin.  He kissed and licked his way down her body, and she writhed beneath him.  His breath was warm on her damp skin, and Clara reached down to run her hands along his back and shoulders.  He fondled her breasts with one hand while he nudged her thighs apart with the other.  "Tell me what you want, Clara," he whispered between kisses across her stomach.

 

"You.  I just want you."

 

"OK then."  The Doctor lowered his mouth to Clara's sex and tentatively gave her a lick.  Encouraged by her long moan, his tongue lapped at her more confidently.  She was already so wet, and he felt himself grow harder in response.  "You taste so good," he murmured against her, and the vibrations send another thrill through her. 

 

"Oh god!"  Clara's hips rocked upwards, and he pushed her back to the bed.

 

He swirls his tongue against her clit, and his eyes flick up to watch Clara.  Her head pushed back against the pillow, eyes closed tightly, thin sheet of sweat on her brow.  She pushes her hands through her hair, gasping for breath.  The Doctor slipped two fingers into her and curled them while he applied more pressure with his lips.

 

"Doctor!"  One of her hands threaded into his thick hair to hold him steady against a particular spot.  "Oh god, Doctor!"  Her breaths came raggedly.

 

He could feel her inner walls clenching around his fingers and knew she had to be close.  The Doctor worked his fingers faster.  "Clara, my Clara.  Just let yourself go.  Come for me."  His voice dropped to the low timber he knew she loved.

 

She stopped trying to hold back and let herself tip over the edge with a scream.  The Doctor continued to stroke Clara as she rode out the waves of pleasure.  She lifted her head off the pillow, looked down at him, and then collapsed back again, breathing heavily.

 

"Are you OK?"  He knelt over her, eyes searching hers.

 

Clara nodded, not trusting herself to speak coherently yet.  She tugged him down to lay on top of her, erection pressed against her hip and moaned into his mouth.  "I love you," she panted.

 

His lips curled into a genuine smile, and he brushed his nose against her cheek affectionately.  "I love you too."  His eyes shone brightly as he looked down at her.  He shuddered when Clara pressed her lips to his jaw.  Her kisses grew sloppier in response to the low sounds coming from his throat.  "Clara," he groaned when her hand slipped around his cock, gripping him lightly.  "…Tighter…  Oh, that's good," he gasped as she complied.  He pushed himself further into her grip and buried his face against her neck.

 

Clara shifted beneath him so he brushed against her folds on his next thrust, and the Doctor made a strangled noise.  "I need you," she murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead.  He nodded slowly and braced himself on his forearms, holding her tightly in his embrace.

 

It feels different this time when he enters her.  Softer, gentler, sweeter.  Slower.  They take their time, truly savoring the way their bodies press against one another, each tender stroke of fingertips and delicate kiss against skin.  There's no rush tonight; anything outside their bedroom will wait until morning.  It's not until they're both close, foreheads together, staring into each other's eyes, hips rolling in perfect unison, that Clara realized what the difference is.  They've fucked, screwed, banged, shagged-- any vulgar term for sex-- many times throughout their relationship, but this was the second time he'd made love to her.  The first time was their very first time together, when she was grieving and he was desperate to take her pain away, and this was the first time throughout their relationship they knew exactly where they stood with the other.  The realization was enough to have her gripping him tightly, calling out his name in pleasure.  He followed right after, spilling inside her.

 

This man, the man she's with, he would do anything for her.  And she knew in her heart of hearts that she would do anything for him too.  Clara suddenly felt terribly selfish for putting her own wants above his; that's the exact opposite of a marriage.  Tears formed at the corner of her eyes, and she cupped his face and peppered it with kisses, alternating between murmurs of I'm sorry and I love you between each kiss.

 

"Clara?  What are you sorry about?"  He stared down at her worriedly.  "Don't cry.  It'll be OK."  He attempted to roll off her, but she cried out and held him to her.  The Doctor held her secure in his arms and whispered until she calmed down.  He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.  "You ready to tell me what's going on?"

 

She nodded.  "I love you more than anything."

 

"Ah yes, that explains the tears," he said, knowing a little humor would help draw her out.

 

"Shut up."  Clara lightly shoved his shoulder.  "I realized I was being awful and selfish, making you go along with what I wanted.  I changed my answer from earlier.  I don't want or need to wait until April to marry you."

 

"You don't?"

 

"No."  Clara took a deep breath.  "Doctor, let's elope next week."


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor finally answers Clara's question, and the rest of the cast plans a surprise.

"No."  Clara took a deep breath.  "Doctor, let's elope next week."

 

The Doctor looked at her in stunned silence.  He opened his mouth a few times, but no words came out, so he closed it again, lips pouting.

 

"That's not a yes," she said.  Her head tilted slightly to the side as she watched him.

 

He finally found his voice.  "Seriously?  Are you sure?"

 

"Yes.  I'm positive."  Clara's words were firm, no trace of doubt.

 

"But what about your dad walking you down the aisle and our friends being there and the flowers and centerpieces and all the other things you wanted?"  His breathing came faster and he sat up in bed.

 

She sat up too, holding the covers against her chest.  "Those were things I wanted, not things I need.  I don't need any of it.  I just need you.  Amy and Rory can be our witnesses.  We can invite everyone for a party after we're married."  She rested a hand on his leg.  "What do you think?"

 

He combed his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair.  "I think this is going to be great.  Wait, but can you get time off from work on such short notice?"

 

"Next week is a three-day weekend.  We'll get married after work on Friday, leave that night, and come home on Monday."

 

A smile crossed the Doctor's face.  "Let's do it." 

 

The next morning the Doctor and Clara told Amy and Rory their plan to skip the wedding and get married the following Friday.  Amy gave a panicked smile, but when pressed, she simply explained that now she had practically no time to throw Clara a bachelorette party.

 

"You could go out this weekend," the Doctor suggested.  "We don't have any plans and Clara's been talking about a girls' night."

 

"Excellent.  Anyone you want there, Clara?"

 

"Amy, you know full well you're my only girl friend.  Although, do you think we should invite Missy?"

 

"Only if you want the most awkward hen party ever," the Doctor said.

 

"She's fun.  I say we invite her," Amy argued.  "She always has great stories."

 

"Doctor, how about we have a guys' night since they're having a girls' night?" Rory offered.

 

The Doctor frowned.  "That is a terrible idea.  I'm too old for a bachelor party."

 

"You're really not," Clara said, rubbing the Doctor's shoulder.  She turned to Rory.  "You won't convince him to go out to a bar, but I've got some ideas for things you can do that he probably won't completely hate.  I'll make a list."

 

Amy pulled on Rory's hand.  "We're glad you guys picked a date and chose us as your witnesses, but we've got some calls to make if we're going to organize a great weekend for you.  We'll see you a little later."  She and Rory went upstairs to their room and closed the door behind them.  "Shit shit shit," Amy swore.

 

"Amy, calm down," Rory said soothingly.

 

"I can't calm down!" she whisper-shouted.  "We just had the idea to organize a surprise wedding with the things Clara wanted but more in line with the Doctor's timeline yesterday.  And now they're getting married in 9 days.  That's not enough time for us to plan this out and have everything ready."

 

"We could just let them elope," Rory suggested.

 

"You know we can't do that.  Everyone else is going to be mad at them for running away like that, especially Clara's dad, and that's not the kind of sentiment you wish on a marriage."  She sighed.  "They're our best friends.  I don't think we'll ever really repay them for everything they've done for us.  I just wanted to be able to do something really nice for them."

 

He pulled his girlfriend into his arms and thought for a moment.  "We could still do it.  I think we just need to call in reinforcements."

 

"What do you have in mind?" Amy asked curiously.

 

"A divide and conquer strategy.  Instead of two people trying to organize and plan a wedding in 9 days, we get their entire guest list to pitch in."  Rory pulled out the notes Amy hid in the nightstand and made a plan.  "Here's what we're going to do…"

 

 

That weekend both groups had their respective outings.  Clara, Amy, and Missy dressed up for a day of shopping followed by an evening at  the karaoke bar Clara went to the first time the Doctor met Amy and Rory.  Missy showed up grinning broadly and holding a plastic tiara with an attached veil and a bride-to-be sash.  She foisted both objects onto Clara and had her stand next to the Doctor for pictures.

 

"I do not remember this happening for my first wedding," he pointed out as his sister posed them.

 

"Your first wife and I didn't get along before you were married," she reminded him.  "Now crack a smile.  I want to see if your eyebrows drop off."

 

He ignored her and addressed Clara.  "Have fun tonight, but call me if you need a ride.  And no strippers!"  The last directed at Missy, who grumbled something under her breath about a stripper being a waste when two-thirds of the group were in committed relationships.

 

"We'll be fine.  We're taking a cab," Clara assured him then leaned in for a kiss.  "I love you."

 

"Love you too."

 

The three women departed, leaving Rory and the Doctor alone.  The Doctor picked up a book and flopped heavily onto the couch.

 

"What are you doing?"

 

A grey eyebrow quirked up, and he held up his book.  "What does it look like?"

 

"No, I mean I thought we were going out too."

 

The Doctor blew out a breath.  "Ah, no.  That was just what we told Clara and Amy to get some peace about the subject.  You thought I was serious?"

 

Rory shrugged.  "Just thought it might be fun.  We rarely do things without them and after you guys get married we won't really get a chance to."

 

"What are you talking about, Rory?"  We've been over this before.  Nothing is going to change after next week."

 

"Amy and I have been talking, and we're actually going to move out once we find a new place."

 

"Oh."  The Doctor closed his book and sat up, motioning for the other man to join him on the sofa.  "You guys don't have to go, you know.  Clara and I have no intention of kicking you out."

 

"We know.  We haven't done much serious looking yet, but Amy's photography business is picking up, and I'll be graduating from nursing school soon, so we want to move closer to the hospital.  Clara knew that those were our eventual plans when we moved in."

 

"Oh," he repeated.  "Well I suppose we could do something today then.  What did you have in mind?"

 

Clara and Amy end up receiving identical text messages that the men were going on a road trip and would be back Sunday night.  An hour and a half an hour outside the city, the TARDIS started acting stroppy and stranded them on the side of the road.

 

"Well that was a bust," the Doctor complained six hours later when they finally arrived home again.

 

"We were just lucky those old ladies stopped to give us a lift," Rory said, sliding his shoes off.  "And it was nice of them to take us to Bingo for a while."

 

"No, you were lucky.  They kept coming onto me."

 

"I'm surprised you even noticed," he chuckled.  "You only ever have eyes for Clara."

 

"It was kind of hard to miss when I stood up at Bingo and one of them pinched my arse."

 

Rory laughed and the Doctor grinned in embarrassment.

 

"Still, I suppose it was kind of like an adventure.  So thanks for that."

 

The front door opened and Clara, Amy, and Missy stumbled through giggling.

 

"Hey, you're home early," Clara said before plopping onto the Doctor's lap.

 

"And you smell like tequila.  Are we jus going to point out the obvious?"

 

"Did the TARDIS break down?" Missy asked.  "It's such an old piece of junk.  Why don't you just get a new one?"

 

"I love that car.  I've had her a long time, and the old girl still has life in her."

 

Clara laid her head on his shoulder.  "You'll never convince him to get rid of it.  A new car would probably have more than two rules anyway."

 

"How much did you have tonight?" the Doctor checked Clara's eyes, and she easily focused on his.

 

"Just a couple.  She isn't 'Shout' drunk," Amy supplied.

 

"I'm never going to live that down, am I?" Clara asked, and everyone shook their heads no.

 

"Good.  I want you to remember this conversation.  Clara, did you know Amy and Rory are planning on moving soon?"

 

"Yeah.  They never instead to live here very long."

 

"Why is this the first I’m hearing about this?"

 

"When I asked if they could move into my old room you responded with 'sure whatever, now stop distracting me.'  I never got a chance to tell you it wouldn't be for very long.  After they moved in it never came up."

 

"Oh."

 

They all sat in contemplative silence, and Clara and the Doctor missed Amy and Missy exchange glances and nods.

 

"I've been thinking," Amy piped up.  "Our new place is going to have a studio for my photography, and I'd like some really nice shots to show clients.  What do you think about me taking photos of you in your wedding attire?"

 

"What sounds great.  When do you want to do it?" Clara asked.

 

"Something this week would probably be best.  Maybe Thursday?"

 

"Thursday works.  Do you have a location in mind?"

 

Missy butted in.  "You could use my yard.  I recently put in some autumn flowers and the leaves turning would make a lovely background."

 

"That sounds great.  Clara, it'll give us a chance to try out different hairstyles for you."

 

Missy gave an exaggerated yarn and left shortly after.  Rory and Amy excused themselves and went to bed not much later, citing an early morning to search for a new flat the next day.

 

"Today was weird," the Doctor murmured against Clara's neck.  They were in bed together, his body pressed tightly against hers.

 

"You think so?" she said sleepily.

 

"It feels like Amy and Rory are hiding something.  They're acting kind of strange.  Do you think it's because we're getting married later this week?"

 

"I think you're being paranoid."  Clara rolled slightly to kiss him.  "Go to sleep.  Goodnight, Doctor."

 

"OK.  Night."

 

 

 

Thursday arrived, and Clara sat patiently in front of her vanity while Amy arranged her hair in several different styles before settling on a  complicated brain and some lovely borrowed hair pins.  ("Something blue," Amy teased as she clipped them into place).  She applied her own makeup lightly and pulled Amy into a hug when she saw her friend's expression.

 

"Why are you crying?"

 

"Because you're my best friend and you look so beautiful."  Amy wiped her eyes.  "We should get going before the Doctor tries to get out of doing this.  I just need to grab my camera and we'll be good to go."

 

Clara went downstairs first, and the Doctor's eyes lit up when she appeared in the living room.  He practically sprinted to the door to meet her.  "Look at you, all dapper in your best suit."  She ran her fingers over the bowed tie at his throat.  "I wasn't sold on this tie when you first told me about it, but I'm glad you chose it."

 

His hands settled on her hips.  "You look amazing, my Clara." He grinned brightly and brought his mouth to hers.  "We're getting married tomorrow."

 

They became aware of a clicking noise right before they heard Amy's voice.  "This is a really cute picture, but stop smudging her lipstick, Doctor."  She flipped the camera around to show them the candid shot of their kiss.  "You should use this for Christmas cards or something."

 

The Doctor blushed and cleared his throat.  "We should get going to Missy's."

 

"Oh, do you have the rings?" Amy asked.  "I definitely want to get pictures of them."

 

He patted his breast pocket.  "Right here."

 

The drive to Missy's was a quick one.  She stood outside waiting for them and ushered them through the house.

 

"You're going to love what I've done to the garden."  She stepped through the door leading outside first, Amy right behind her.  Both women stepped to the side.

 

The Doctor and Clara walked through the French doors hand-in-hand.  They looked around in confusion as they registered ten voices yell out.

 

"SURPRISE!"


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter. Sorry for the almost a year wait, but here's the happy ending.

"SURPRISE!"

The Doctor and Clara stopped in their tracks and looked around. "Missy, what's going on?" he asked his sister as Amy ran ahead snapping photos.

The patio area of her garden was completely transformed. The small table she used for tea parties was gone and replaced with one large table with twelve chairs. Two large speakers stood on the opposite end of the patio in what looked like a dance area. They noticed more chairs on the grass and instantly recognized the occupants as their wedding guest list. An arch was set up by the fountain, and Rory stood at the center, a small stack of index cards in his hands. Dave Oswald stood off to one side waiting for their little group. Soft music played in the background.

"I don't understand. What's happening?" the Doctor inquired when Missy slipped her arm through his and gently pulled him away from Clara.

"We're doing something nice for you. Smile and say thank you. C'mon, let's take a little walk." She straightened his tie and slowly led him between the two groups of chairs to stand in front of Rory.

The Doctor looked at the assembled group in bewilderment. Vastra, Jenny, and Strax sat directly in front of him. There was another empty chair that he assumed belonged to Missy. Danny Pink, Clara's gran, and Linda were in the other group with another empty chair for Dave. Danny was holding a video camera recording everything. Amy moved gracefully as she took pictures of the Doctor standing at the makeshift alter, Missy by his side. "This is a wedding," he realized.

"Do try to keep up," Missy said, patting his arm condescendingly. "I'll let it slide because we sprung this on you the day before you were planning on eloping. Yes, I know all about that," she muttered out of the corner of her mouth when his head whipped around to look at her. "Stop looking at me, and look at your bride." She left his side to take her seat.

His eyes searched for Clara, and his heart did a somersault when he saw her standing back on the patio, trying to prevent a panic attack. She clutched her father's arm tightly and breathed deeply. 

Amy stood next to Rory and whispered, "Maybe this was a bad idea after all. Clara's too much of a control freak for big surprises like this."

"She'll be fine," the Doctor hissed back. He watched her wipe at her eyes and nod at her father's question. The Doctor raised a hand to give her an awkward wave and was rewarded with the sound of Clara's laugh.

"OK, I'm ready," she announced, still sounding shaky. In response, everyone sitting stood up and turned to watch her walk down the aisle.

The Doctor bit his lip and tried to hold back the tears threatening to escape his eyes. It's silly, he thought to himself, not entirely sure why he felt like crying. He'd seen her in the wedding dress before, he'd seen her look at him with those wide eyes of hers before, and he'd seen her walk towards him before. He can't explain what it is about the combination of those three things that's doing things to his emotions. Maybe he's malfunctioning. Clara and Dave reached him; Dave kissed Clara's cheek and shook the Doctor's hand before taking his chair. He reached out for Clara's hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "Hi," he said softly.

"Hi," she whispered back.

Rory cleared his throat to begin the ceremony. "Dear friends and family, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the union of John "The Doctor" Smith and Clara Oswald in marriage. The union of two people makes us aware of the changes wrought by time. But the new relationship will continue to draw much of its beauty and meaning from the intimate associations of their past." He paused while the Doctor fished a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to Clara, who was crying silently. The Doctor looked for another one for himself and came up empty. Clara reached up and dried his eyes with the handkerchief he gave her, and they exchanged watery smiles.

"A successful marriage requires falling in love many times, always with the same person," Rory continued. "As friends and family of Clara and the Doctor, I think it's safe to say that we've all witnessed them falling in love with each other, perhaps even before they realized what they felt." He smiled when the group nodded and murmured to each other in agreement. "Clara, Doctor, I know we sprung this on you, but do you have anything you'd like to say?"

"I'll go first," the Doctor volunteered when more tears came to Clara's eyes. "Clara Oswald, since the moment we met I knew you would be an important part of my life. Love is a promise, and I pr that I will spend the rest of my life being the man you deserve." He took the rings out of his jacket pocket and slipped hers onto her finger, placing the second one in her palm.

"Doctor." Clara's voice shook with nerves, and she cleared her throat. "People like me and you, we should say things to one another. And I'm going to say them now." She took his hands in hers. "I have loved you for years. As long as I've known you, really. And it took almost losing you to get up the courage to tell you that. Sometimes things happen and it's too late, but we were lucky enough to still be here together. Whatever the future holds, we'll do it as we've done everything else."

"Together," the Doctor whispered as Clara slid the ring onto his finger.

"Right," Rory said, rubbing his hands together. "By the power invested in me by Internet Ordained Ministers dot com, you are now husband and wife. You may kiss."

The small group cheered as Clara grabbed the lapels of the Doctor's jacket and pulled him to her level for a kiss.

The rest of the night was spent in merriment, with kind words and dancing. All of the guests, even Linda, took turns toasting the newlyweds and wishing them well. Once everyone had said their piece, the Doctor led his new wife out to the dance area and gently swayed with her.

"So do I get to call you Mr. Clara now?" she teased, head on his shoulder.

"If anyone asks if there is a Mr. Clara, yes." 

They danced the night away, and the Doctor smiled more than he had in years. When it was finally time to go, they hugged the friends and family that gave them a more memorable wedding than they had planned. He led Clara to the TARDIS, and they laughed at the tin cans and just married sign affixed to the car.

"All of time and all of space is sitting out there," he said, gesturing to the road. "Please. Don't even argue."

Clara smiled and took the Doctor's hand, kissing his cheek. "What are you waiting for? Let's go."

And they did.


End file.
